The Fox Hunts Snakes
by Dethklok
Summary: Uzumaki Naruto is an old man. A warrior whose hands are stained with the blood of thousands. His time is nearly over, and the Kyubbi no Kitsune must move on. A second demon vessel must be chosen. Who better than the BoyWhoLived? My first HPNaruto xover
1. Out of Left Field

_December, 1981..._

"I'm going to ask you one last time, and then I'm going to get nasty. Your eyes will be next, I think. Then maybe your balls."

Several months ago, Troy, currently tied up in a chair in the bedroom of his small mansion, had been a Death Eater, primarly one of Voldemort's intelligence operatives. After the public announcement of the Dark Lord's defeat, he and several others who had operated in various crucial positions in Voldemort's hierarchy had simply faded away into the background, and were never caught, or even suspected of being Death Eaters. They were not public figures, such as Lucius Malfoy, or Bellatrix Lestrange. One had slipped gold to the Ministry and was relatively clean, and the other was currently enjoying sunny Azkaban and giving away pieces of her mind, one happy thought at a time.

But back to his current predicament. Ten minutes ago, the wards had alerted Troy to a minute breach, and he had gotten out of bed to check the disturbance. When he had gotten to the first floor, he had been ambushed by an intruder. He had managed to land one spell, a fairly powerful bludgeoning hex, but the man had seemingly shrugged it off like it was nothing. A quick blow to the head, and he woke up bound to a chair in his bedroom, with two of his fingers broken to start with, and someone asking him where Harry Potter was.

That had certainly been surprising. The fact that he had been working with some boys from the old crowd to determine where that fool Dumbledore had stashed the boy wonder was supposed to be a secret. Only five people had been in on this little side project. It was supposed to be simple. Find out where Dumbledore had dumped Potter, go to the location, and level it, killing Potter and anyone else with him. They had finally dismissed Dumbledore placing Potter with a Wizarding family six weeks ago. The evidence didn't point to it. Then someone had come up with the bright idea to check around with the Muggles.

That had been a good idea. Lily Potter had been a muggleborn, and supposedly had muggle relations that were still alive. For a mudblood, she had been a strong one, a wicked Charms Mistress, along with James Potter, who had been brutal when it came to Battle Transfiguration.

But even the best could not stand up to Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Slytherin. They had been cut down. But then the impossible happened. The Dark Lord had turned his wand on the last Potter and fired the _Avada Kedavra_, it had somehow been turned back, and the Dark Lord had seemingly been destroyed.

This anomaly could not stand. Lord Voldemort, vanquished and his slayer left to grow and prosper? No sir. So the Dark Lord's most faithful had set themselves to this task, to find and kill Potter, to honor their fallen liege.

But then he had been told by his captor that he was the last one alive pursuing this little endeavour. The rest had been eliminated. He was now being tortured, quite severely, for whatever vital information he had.

The man seemingly grew impatient. He slid out a large, brutal looking knife from a sheath and slammed it into Troy's right kneecap, piercing it straight through. The screams were quite loud. Too bad the mansion was fairly isolated. No one heard his pleas for help.

"S-Sweet Merlin! I'll talk! Anything, anything you want! It hurts...!"

The man spoke again, his voice sounded dry and aged, but deep. It spoke of a man who had no mercy for his enemies, and very little for anyone else in general.

"Then sing for me. Where is Harry Potter?"

"The safe, behind that painting on the far wall. All the information is there."

"Very good." The man tweaked the knife a little, causing pain to ripple throughout the former Death Eater's lower extremities. He then walked over to the far wall and pulled off a painting from the wall. The fact that the painting was a priceless antique seemed to mean nothing to him. He destroyed it almost casually. There was a small wall safe. With a grunt of effort and the slight tearing of metal, the door to the safe came off and was tossed into a corner. Some shufflling of papers, and...

"Jackpot." The man browsed through the papers, his black facemask crinking and moving as the face beneath it went through a variety of expressions. "Hmmm. Little Whinging, Surrey, England. Privet Drive, Number 4. Petunia Durseley, _nee_ Evans. Very good. I'll have to pay a visit."

The man then turned to look at Troy. "I must thank you. The last piece of the puzzle, now solved. But I'm afraid it's the end for you, Sir Troy."

"What?! Why? I told you what you wanted to know!"

"Yes, you did. And your reward for that will be a clean death. That is the best I can give you. You would have never been able to walk normally again, not after what I did to your leg. And besides, you are a Death Eater. Letting you live would be too much trouble, and I can't be bothered. Besides, you and your friends were planning to hurt young Harry, and I can't have that. That won't do at all."

"Wait! Please...I have money. Gold...jewels. Here in this house! It's all yours. Just don't kill me."

"No deal. I have enough money." And with that, the man pulled a blade out of a scabbard on his back. It was a katana. The blade was razor sharp, clean. Gleaming in the moonlight. The hilt was worn, speaking of much use and much blood spilled. With a single sharp movement, Troy was decapitated, his head rolling onto the carpet, an expression of terror etched onto his face. His body began slightly jerking, and the body and chair he had been tied to tipped over. The blood from the stump spurted out, staining the carpet.

The man walked out of the main bedroom and quickly made his way to the front door, before heading outside. The property the mansion had sat on was small. The wards were strong, but if you knew how to approach them properly, they weren't really a challenge. The man took off his mask and stowed it, before taking out a cigarette and lighting it, while walking to the ward line.

A deep growl echoed through the man's subconscious. _**"These things will kill you, kit."**_

The man turned his face upwards, his face illuminated by the moonlight. He was tall, a little over six feet. His face held very little signs of age, but his eyes, a faded blue, seemed ancient. They spoke of the desire for better times, and a general indifference to the world. The two most noticable features this man posessed was wild, spiky hair, a vibrant blonde that had gone silver-gray decades ago. The second were six marks, three adorning each cheek symetrically. They almost looked like whiskers, and did not seem out of place on the man's weathered face.

The man spoke vocally. No one was around. "Haven't you heard? I'm dying, _baka_ fox. Otherwise we wouldn't be doing this."

_**"Enough wallowing in your self misery, mortal. You have some time yet. Enough to do what you must. Besides, my powers have given you a life beyond measure. But all things must come to an end. Even you. Now enough dawdling!"**_

What a slavedriver..." The man mumbled. He turned around and looked back at the house. Several quick movements with his hands and some mumbled words, and the mansion was consumed by fire. It took only seconds for the entire place to go up in a violent, blazing conflaguration. The structure quickly collapsed in on itself.

With this final act, the man turned away, vanishing in a swirl of leaves.

* * *

Fucking suburbs...all alike. 

No sense of character or real human feeling in any of them.

This, more than anything else, convinced Uzumaki Naruto that he was doing the right thng. Any whelp powerful enough to turn away the Deathcurse needed careful handling, not being stuck in the sticks, a suburban wasteland.

Contary to popular belief, turning back the Deathcurse was not impossible, but the amount of power required was quite astronomical. Having had prior experiences with wizards in a combat setting, Naruto was living proof. If your will to live could defeat your attacker's will to kill you, the Deathcurse had no power over you. It required a rather...extreme force of effort, something Naruto posessed in abundance.

Perhaps it was also the fact that he housed the greatest of the Tailed Demon Beasts within him. That probably helped as well. Human magics rarely worked on demons to great effect. The fact that Kyubbi had been able to nearly level Konoha alone was a testament to that. Outside help had been needed to attain victory, in the form of the Shinigami, the Death God.

Naruto shook his head, clearing the cobwebs. Konoha was a long time ago, dust in the wind. No one currently alive remembered _true_ shinobi. Whether that was a positive or a negative, Naruto truly didn't know.

Here it was. Privet Drive. By Kami. Naruto could not emphasize how much he hated the place.

Number 2...3...4. The place. This was it.

A deep rumble stilled his feet. _**"There is a...heaviness surrounding the house, kit. It smells of blood. Step carefully."**_

The fox was cruel. And petty. He hungered greatly for battle and bloodshed. But his instincts were never wrong. Naruto's body had long ago been enhanced to superhuman levels due to the fox's influence. This also allowed Kyubbi direct access to his senses. The fox's recognition of danger and natural paranoia had saved his ass more than once.

More than a dozen times, actually.

A heaviness. What the fox meant by this was that it sensed magical wards. The blood? Blood magic was a part of this. The fox was always quick to recognize things like that.

It really didn't matter. Foward momentum. Naruto's skills rivaled or surpassed those of any wizard or witch alive. Without wands, many of them were like sheep. What a joke.

Looking at his watch, it was a little after 1AM.

A skill Naruto had picked up fairly quickly in his long life was lockpicking. The front door lock was beaten in less than thirty seconds, and the door swung open.

Gaudy furniture, everywhere. The house looked painfully...neat. No real personality. Looking at some of the pictures on the walls, they displayed a fat, pasty man with a bad comb-over and mustache. Clutched close to him was a tall, horse-faced woman. She may have once been pretty, in a way, but that was long since gone. There was a severe pinched look to her face. She looked...ruined.

What a shame.

On a couple of the pictures, the man and woman were holding what appeared to be a very fat toddler, or a freakishly large grub. That much fat on a three year old wasn't natural.

Enough dawdling, as the fox would say. Naruto extended his senses, searching. It was quite a bit like the muggle radar. A brief chakra echo that locked onto a nearby chakra signature. It was great for finding people. Unless you knew how to properly supress your energy emissions, it got you every time.

Here was something. There was quite a strong source, very close. The strange thing was that it wasn't a constant output of energy. It was chaotic. It flared briefly, then came down severely, then spiked, then locked down, then started over again. Where was this coming from?

Very close. Naruto walked towards the stairs. There was a small cupboard built into the stairs. It was secured with a strong lock. What he was looking for was behind here. The lock was torn off and the small door was slowly opened. Lying in a basket in the darkness was a baby, wrapped in a ratty blanket, alone.

Naruto gritted his teeth and his eyes became points, cold chips of ice. Nothing really changed. People never truly became better as time went on. A cupboard. Things like that brought back bad memories.

_A village, hidden in leaves. A boy, struggling to make his way. Hatred in every eye, a curse on every lip. Cuts and bruises fading away in seconds, as if by magic. But it wasn't. It has an alien strength, locked inside him..._

_"DEMON!"_

_"Monster!"_

_"Freak!"_

He had been so small as a child because ramen had been the only thing the shopkeepers would deign to sell to him. That and that fucking orange nightmare that made him a walking target.

Naruto picked the boy up. So thin. Several ribs were already showiing. The boy was dancing the fine line between hunger and starvation. Holding the boy close, he silently walked outside of the house.

The ward line extended about fifty feet from the property. Naruto could sense the heaviness dissapate. Things were clear again. He looked at the child. Medical jutsus weren't his forte, but he knew more than a few. Tsunade had been the best, and he had picked up more than a few tricks from her. He also had scrolls at home.

Young Harry Potter had been subjected to a _severe_ block on his powers. Naruto was vaguely familiar with them. Chakra blocking jutsus had been used on prisoners of Konoha, in the past. What did the wizards call it again? His...magical core. That was it. There was a lock that was directly anchored to the boy's core, but his power levels were actively resisting, so the block was slightly erratic and spiked intermittently, using more of the boy's energy to lock his core down. It was either ingenious, or terribly cruel. Perhaps both.

This...could be a problem.

The boy would have to become powerful enough to break the blocks himself. The next few years would be...unpleasant for Harry Potter, as Naruto would have to come up with some method of working around the block and making him strong enough to break it.

But that was the future. In the present, a great wrong had to be addressed.

Doing seals one handed took slightly longer, but his other arm was occupied. Forming the last seal, Naruto used a Doton jutsu. It would be for the best if it was thought some kind of freak natural disaster claimed Number 4, Privet Drive. A great sinkhole, more than sixty feet around, opened up, and the Dursley home fell in, collapsing in on itself. There was the unexpected bonus of an explosion erupting, from ruptured gas lines, Naruto presumed. The explosion was sharp and loud, and swept through the house. Fire shot up nearly two hundred feet into the air, and Number 4 and all those in it were ash on the wind.

Three more lives ended tonight. Naruto didn't feel a thing, one way or the other about it. Why should he? He was a warrior, and had claimed the lives or hundreds, thousands of people over the years. After a while, taking lives moved from a deliberate action to reaction, instinct. In the end, it really didn't matter. He was alive, and all of his various enemies were dead.

Time enough for regrets and 'if onlys' and guilt in the grave.

He walked briskly down the street, which was lit up by the fires of the explosion and from various lights being turned on in surrounding houses. People screaming and hollering reached his ears. What noise.

Harry Potter shifted and curled slightly in Naruto's arms. A cry was on his lips, before he was stilled by a sleep jutsu.

"We'll make a fighter out of you yet, boy. Believe it." Naruto chuckled and dissapeared in a swish of leaves and wind.

* * *

**A/N: Well, here's the first chapter. I have high expectations for this story, but I'd like some reviews before I continue. This is a Naruto/Harry Potter crossover. I thought I'd try my hand at one, seeing as they're so popular. For anyone who's curious, they both exist in the same universe. As the story progesses, I will explain myself and delve further into this.**

**Please review!**


	2. Building the Best

_January, 1987..._

Evan after all this time, Naruto was still confused as to why he had taken the last Potter as a disciple. The boy was a _wizard_, he should have been with his own. But he was not. He had been left with those...what did the wizards call them? Muggles. That was it. Muggles. They had such _nice_ names and labels for everything. Muggle. Half-Blood. Pureblood. Mudblood. Non-humans. The list went on and on.

One of the many lessons Naruto had taught his student was that those who claim that they are superior, or more powerful, or more pure, often are not. If one is superior, it should be enough that _you_ know you are. The world not need know it too, because actions speak louder than words.

_'Braggarts often meet early deaths.'_

When he had left England with Harry Potter, Naruto had no idea what kind of storm he had stirred up, and in all truth, he really didn't care. The wizards were _so_ stupid, and their values were quite warped. Glorifying a child for simply living. Could the boy replicate his feat? Defeat the Deathcurse a second time? A third time?

It also brought to mind what kind of people these were. Naruto had been a mercenary and assassin and had worked for both sides of the conflict in England during Voldemort's first 'reign', if it could be called that. It really should have been called a glorified tantrum. These Death Eaters had run roughshod over England, killing all the way. Voldemort himself had been given the name of 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', or 'You-Know-Who'. Part of the reason why Naruto had contracted for the Dark Lord was because it disgusted him to see these sheep refuse to even use the name of their enemy. If they could not use the name of their foe, how could they combat him? Fear and panic would kill them just as surely as a Killing Curse would. As far as for the opposition, Naruto had been commissioned for several assassinations of Death Eaters by private families seeking vengeance.

No one had ever known he had been working both sides, and he profited either way. The balance of power in the conflict did not really change, despite his actions. None of the principal players on either side of the conflict had been engaged by 'Kitsune', a name that was equal parts fear and legend in certain circles. Naruto saw his work at the time more as an exercise, a greater insight into fighting wizards. He was still disappointed by his opponents. Without their wands, it was like clubbing baby seals, for the most part. No real challenge. They relied on their powers as a crutch, for the most part. Some did not, and Naruto had been pleasantly surprised. But still, none who stood against him walked away with their lives. Uzumaki Naruto just operated on a whole different level.

By the time the boy was six years old, Naruto knew that he would be one of the best fighters on the planet. There were a few others he had run into or heard of over the years. Pai Mei in China. Lady Shiva, the assassin. Dhalsim, the old mystic in India. Harry Potter also possessed that drive, the will to succeed and conquer. To rise above one's enemies.

What had it been called? The 'will of fire'. When he had been a shinobi, people had said that he had it. Had he proved it, being the last survivor of the 4th Great Shinobi War, the conflict that had spelled the end for the shinobi? He had taken advantage of the chaos, the disintegration of the Hidden Villages and the extinction of many of the revered _kekki genkai_, the blood inheritance abilities, and struck off, made his own path.

It was funny. In Konoha, there had been many who desired his death. As a ninja, he had made even more enemies as he grew in power and ability. His life being in danger became an everyday occurrence to him. And in the end, he had outlived them all, and continued the pattern of death. During those long conflicts, he had discovered something. His heart...had become cold, like stone. Precious people...becoming Hokage...an unhealthy infatuation with pink hair...in the end, none of that really mattered. He was a survivor, and over time, violence, the skills to cut a bloody path throughout history kept him alive. Uzumaki Naruto simply...continued.

All this was part of the reason he had taken a student. He had discovered long ago that information was infinitely more valuable than gold or jewels...or anything else in this world. He had managed to get his hands on scrolls from nearly all of the Hidden Villages, or what had remained of them. That knowledge was priceless, and it had to go to someone, be of some use, after he was gone.

When he had taken the boy, he had a vague idea of what he wanted, but no real plan. As time went on, a plan came into being.

It had been more than half a millennium since Uzumaki Naruto had come into this world and had been placed on the altar of sacrifice, and it had been several hundred years since the 4th Shinobi War. The demon fox's awesome powers had sustained him many lifetimes over, and had kept him going. But there reached a point when he could no longer tolerate the Kyubbi's demonic energies like he used to. Perhaps it had been that assignment he had taken during the Second World War. Despite what the history books said, the Third Reich had built a prototype nuclear weapon. Naruto had been commissioned to steal or destroy it, working with a Allied strike force to raid a German weapons facility.

In the end, the mission had been successful, but every member of the strike force had been killed in action and Naruto had been irradiated in the process of destroying the weapon. He had lost consciousness while wandering through the Black Forest looking for a safe place. He had woken up weeks later in a cave, informed by the fox that he had managed to purge the strange energies from Naruto's body, but their connection was slowly destabilizing. That many rads had also made him sterile.

When it rained, it poured. Right on your ass.

The ensuing decades bore witness to a minute slip in Naruto's abilities and control over his powers. He was still a force to be reckoned with, but it was only a matter of time before the game was up.

He had spent the next few decades taking missions periodically, to maintain his presence and finances, but diving deeper into some esoteric subjects, such as soul migration rituals, theories on possession, advanced sealing techniques and a hundred other related topics.

He had long made his peace with the demon fox, and disavowed himself of petty prejudices, such as viewing the world through a black and white filter. Survival was a mutual interest, after all. Looking at it objectively, the fox was a resource, a cunning, vicious character who was invaluable in terms of experience and instincts. The Kyubbi no Kitsune's final death would be...troublesome, as a lazy ninja would have said.

Harry Potter was a chained warrior, his powers currently sealed. It was well within the power of the Kyubbi to break the boy's shackles, and with ease.

Was the boy strong enough to take up the mantle, and the responsibility of becoming a demon avatar? Kyubbi certainly hungered for a new vessel. Naruto should have been offended by the fox's greed, but he wasn't. Their long partnership was coming to an end, one way or another.

His student had not been offended or fearful of the concept of a _jinchuuriki_, or of the fact that his sensei was one. And why should he? It really didn't mean anything to him, so there were no negative connotations to be had. Besides, children often formed their morals based on those of the adults around them. Uzumaki Naruto's own moral structure was...what was it, exactly? He never killed without cause, but given enough reason, no human was safe from his wrath. He was not one to quickly judge on the differences of others, having been subjected to a traumatic childhood due to his own differences. That really...was it. Uzumaki Naruto was unpredictable in regards to everything else.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up shortly after sunrise in his room at the compound he shared with his sensei. He woke up around this time every day, and prepared himself for another round of hard training and instruction. After taking a shower in the bathroom and getting ready, he got dressed in one of the many training uniforms he had in his closet. All of them were a deep black color, identical. Things like aesthetics or styles never really mattered to him. 

He walked down to the kitchen area and began making breakfast for two people. That was his job in the morning, before the day's training began. He had asked once why he had to cook every day. His sensei had grinned and asked _who_ was teaching _who_ and about how cooking for two was a small price to pay to learn how to fight. He never complained again after that.

Breakfast was eaten fairly quickly and the two of them went outside to a nearby training ground. The whole area was a training ground, to be precise. Harry had asked once and had been told that once something called a 'Hidden Village' had been here, called Konoha. His master's village, to be exact. After the Hidden Villages had been dissolved and had become deserted, Naruto had acquired most of the surrounding countryside for his own purposes, maintaining his privacy through the use of a large-scale illusion. The village itself had been cleared of buildings and replaced by forest. The only structure standing in a ten mile radius was the former Hokage Tower, which was Uzumaki Naruto's personal domicile and headquarters. Harry's favorite place to go was about twenty miles away, a river valley called the Valley of the End. Harry had thought the statues carved into the cliffside walls were quite something. It had been here that he had been taught water walking.

That had been a difficult few days. It had been explained since he was old enough to understand that he had great powers, but couldn't use them because someone had blocked them. That was the first time Harry had truly been enraged. He couldn't become the best because somebody had...violated him! Something powerful had surged up in him at that thought. Before anything could be expressed by that, something quite painful had happened. This...choking sensation struck him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. His sensei had caught him before he passed out.

He had woken up nearly a day later in his room. His master had been worried, but oddly pleased by what had happened. To resist like that, and for such a severe reaction, Harry was quite powerful. He could not express his powers now, but he could still be taught other things. Harry was slightly relieved at that, but he asked what could be done to release his powers. His master had an odd look on his face when he answered that. All he would say was that he was working on something in regards to that, and that by the time they were finished, Harry would be as strong, if not stronger than his sensei ever was. He had brightened up a little at that.

That was two years ago. He had been taught a wide variety of things. Every day was a work day. 'Time enough for rest in the grave,' Naruto had said.

Chemistry, languages, survival techniques, taijutsu, were some of the many subjects covered. Harry was a prodigy at creating poisons, and with hand to hand combat. He was also above average with disabling pressure points and reactivating them. Learning pinpoint control over his magical energies, his chakra, had been another crucial aspect of his training. He was able to affect his body internally, increasing his speed and strength, or his endurance. The boy could take a hit with very little negative side effects. Tree-walking had taken several weeks to hammer out and understand, the proper application of magical energy that would not create a surge and cause his body to lock up.

Water walking had been intense. Naruto had said there were many connections between this and tree walking, but Harry had still found it difficult. Maintaining the proper level of concentration constantly was difficult. Exasperated, his master had taken off his coat and rushed at him, speeding at Harry over the water.

_"Defend yourself."_ he had said.

It had taken four and a half hours of constant fighting for the skill to become more than second nature. Strike and counter-strike. Block. Reverse the hold. Blocking an aerial strike. High-speed aerial maneuvering. Evasion. All this he had to do, and with training weights! Close to two hundred pounds on each limb! But it had been almost worth it, just to wipe the smirk off his sensei's face. That had been the first time Harry had made him bleed. Naruto had grinned and had said "_Now_ I'm sure you learned something." Being close to collapsing had been worth it, just for that.

He faced his master, who was quiet. Something seemed to be on his mind. Finally he spoke.

"What is the ultimate technique of a fighter?"

"To have no technique."

"Continue..."

"A fight is like a small play, but played seriously. A fighter does not become tense, but ready. Not thinking, yet not dreaming. Ready for whatever may come. When the opponent expands, I contract. When he contracts, I expand. When there is an opportunity, I do not hit. It hits all by itself."

"You must always remember: the enemy has only images and illusions behind which he hides his true motives. Destroy the image and you will break the enemy."

"I will remember."

"See that you do. Now...take me."

"...?"

"Take me."

A leg sweep followed by a strike to the body was quickly stopped and Harry was sent flying to the ground.

"What was that? Control your emotional content. Not anger! Again."

"Hmmm. You have improved. Six months ago you would not have been able to read my moves like that and counter. You are beginning to understand that you must move beyond reaction towards instinct. Thinking about how to respond instead of doing so could mean your death. I have lived so long because I have taken that fact to heart. You have made great strides within your limitations, but the time has come to break all barriers and attain your true powers."

"You mean..."

"Yes. I have found a way to release your powers. Your training will be intensified soon. There is still so much to cover. I will be able to begin training you in jutsus by this time next month."

"Why so long?"

"What I am attempting has never been done before. I could die trying, or you could be rejected and burn out. Many things could happen. I need time to finalize everything before we begin. Even if it does work, you need time to become acclimated to your powers."

"Oh. Alright. You know best, I suppose."

"Damn straight. Where are you going? It's not time for lunch. Just because you have improved doesn't mean you're even close to breaking even against me. Come at me again, this time with feeling..."


	3. Dealing with the Death God

_Mid-February, 1987..._

Harry Potter was currently in a holding pattern, exploring the dark places mortals fear to tread. One of his master's myriad skills was of sealing, a magical art similar to runes, a field Naruto had taught him wizards had pioneered. Several hours ago, he became the focal point in a ceremony to create a temporary bridge between this world and the Endless Graveyard, the realm of the Shinigami.

A new bargain had to be struck.

The ceremony had taken place in a sealed room in the tower, set with candles and incense. The incense was a hallucinogenic, designed to promote a detached state of consciousness. For this, one had to uprooted from reality and set loose.

The best term had been that Harry had faded, and had fallen into a light coma. This was the time for Naruto to inscribe the heavily modified seal that had taken nearly half a century to create on Harry's stomach. The seal was a large circle, about six inches wide. An altered seal contract had been created, along with the sigils that would regulate things like demonic energy diffusion, conversion limits, and several other technical aspects of the seal. When the seal began to glow a deep red, and then crackle with bluish-white energy, things really began getting interesting.

* * *

_Somewhere..._

The wind was whipping something fierce. Harry had regained consciousness and had found himself naked in a dark forest clearing. The sky was overcast and cloudy. Thunder and lightning cracked and rumbled throughout the heavens. At first, Harry was confused. But then he remembered. The ceremony. What had he been reminded of?

_"I can't tell you where you will end up, because honestly, I don't know. Do not stray off the path you find yourself upon. The realm of the dead has many temptations. Do not give in to them. You are stronger than that. And do not agree to any bargain with the Shinigami except the one we have gone over. The Death God is immortal. But he is also bored. He will try to entrap you for his own amusements. Don't agree to anything except for what you want."_

Standing up, Harry saw a trail at the far end of the clearing. The trail seemed to be leading to a brightly lit area nearly a mile away. Steeling himself, Harry began to run.

He stopped when something stepped into his path. It was a girl, several years from becoming a beautiful woman. She was also naked, but bedecked with silver jewelry and rings on her arms, legs, and nipples.

"In a hurry, are we?" Her voice was low and husky. The epitome of desire. There was a hungry look in her eyes that Harry didn't like. "Stay a while. Warm my cold bones..." A cold hand trailed down his body, before cupping his genitals. Harry automatically reacted, before remembering his mission.

"I cannot." Harry began to move forward again. He then found his arm in a steel grip.

The girl's eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't recall giving you a choice, _mortal_." Her voice grew icy. She grabbed him and pulled him close, squeezing his buttocks.

"A firm one..." A slow smile slid on her face. "My sisters and I will enjoy you. Maybe after a while, you'll enjoy it too." She began to pull him off the path into the tree line.

Harry stopped, pulling with all his might. "NO!" A strike at her neck and she evaporated into white vapor and laughter, ringing in the winds.

Harry stepped back onto the path and began running faster. He saw several more nude women beckoning at him from the trees, but he paid no attention. His goal was all that mattered.

The glow emanating from the end of the path grew brighter the closer he approached. Stepping through the glow, the world became suffused with a white glow, all sounds diffusing to nothing. This lasted only a second. Then the world cleared again and Harry dropped heavily into another clearing, this one much larger than the first.

Harry struggled to rise. White vapor and frost came off Harry in waves. He shivered violently, before centering himself and getting to his feet. The clearing was circular, made up of a solid wall of trees. At the far end was a throne made of bones. A figure in a black robe or cloak sat in it. Surrounding him and lounging at his feet were at least thirty of those pale, naked women. Each were more beautiful than the last, and they all seemed possessed of a black humor. Some looked at him with interest, others, with disdain. As Harry approached the throne, some got up and surrounded Harry, grabbing at him, touching him, groping him. Gently, Harry pushed his way through and stood before the throne.

The figure crossed his legs and studied Harry, a bone-white hand under his chin. The figure's other hand toyed with a scythe made out of a dark, black metal.

Harry could see the beginnings of a dark grin on the figure's face. White, glowing teeth shone through the blackness of the hood the man wore. Finally, the man spoke, his voice a rich, deep harmonic.

"I think that is enough molestation, ladies." The assorted females pouted, but backed off and stood to the side. Harry could see that many were still looking at him. Some of them began...playing with each other, or playing with themselves. Many smiled when they saw they had Harry's attention.

"I apologize for the ladies. They truly are an...amorous bunch."

"That's an understatement." It was quite a struggle not to look at them and their antics.

"Let me introduce myself. I am..."

"...the Shinigami." Harry finished.

"Correct. And you are Hadrian James Potter. Harry to your friends. Am I right?"

"Harry will do."

"Good. Good. Nearly seven years old! You have gotten big. Eating right and everything? No health problems? No? Too bad. It seems not that long ago I saw you and your parents about that...unpleasantness in Godric's Hollow."

"I know all about it." His master had told Harry about who he was and the circumstances behind how he had become his student long ago. The fact that Naruto had killed the Dursleys, supposed blood relations, hadn't bothered Harry in the slightest.

"Good. Good. So you are here, having passed the trial and succeeded in gaining an audience with the Shinigami, the Death God. Otherwise known as the Grim Reaper. You have braved the way to my kingdom for...what, exactly?"

"I am here in reference to a contract."

"A contract? Been a long time since I did one of those. I'll need my list. Sonia!"

One of the pale women appeared next to Harry, a long parchment in one hand. The other hand was stroking Harry, almost subconsciously. It was making him slightly uncomfortable, which all the other women laughed at.

"If you'll refrain from jerking off my guest, Sonia..." The stroking stopped. "Which contract, specifically, Harry?"

"The agreement you made with the Fourth Hokage of Konohakagure no Sato to seal the soul and powers of the Tailed Demon Beast, the Kyubbi no Kitsune."

That made the Shingami look up and take notice. "That? Yes...I remember _that_ night. Many powerful souls entered my kingdom that night." The Shinigami said, a wistful smile on his pale face. "I feasted on the Kyubbi's body that night. Quite a delicacy. What about it? Once destroyed, a demonic body cannot be recreated. Especially one that housed the power of the Ninetails."

"I have come to ask you to alter the contract slightly and remove the Kyubbi from Uzumaki Naruto and implant the Kyubbi no Kitsune's powers and soul in me. Beyond that, the contract shall not be altered in any way."

A strange look flashed on the Shinigami's face, before he sped forward and grabbed Harry's throat, pinning him up against a tree. The ladies surrounded him, pointing and laughing at him.

"You little fool." The Shinigami hissed. "You have no idea that of which you ask. Becoming bound to a demonic entity is no small matter. Why are you doing this? Out of loyalty to your master? I _know _what your future _could_ have been had he not taken you and killed your family. You would have been weak and small. Pitiful. Ten years in a cupboard. A slave to lesser beings. I shudder at the thought. No. I like you better this way. The shinobi of old were killers without equal. They sent many to their deaths and my kingdom. It is a pity they were all but destroyed, save for your master. They were _very_ skilled, for humans anyway. But perhaps...they can live on. With you." The Shingami dropped Harry to the ground, where the pale women helped him to his feet, before touching him again. Harry batted them away and approached the Shinigami, who seemed lost in thought. He finally snapped his fingers and turned around, looking at Harry with glowing greenish-blue eyes.

"I shall do as you have asked." He said. "I am bound by Law to do as you have asked, as you did come through all the trouble of making your way to my kingdom. But there is something I want from you. We shall make our _own_ contract." The Shinigami grinned at the prospect.

"For what exactly?" Harry sounded wary.

"Relax. You'll slide into an early grave if you stay paranoid. And that would be a pity. What you have to give me...no, not your soul. What do I want...? What I want...are your enemies."

"My enemies? As far as I know, I don't have any enemies."

"That's where you're wrong, young Potter. You have many enemies that are still alive and prospering in your homeland. What I want is for you to return there when you are strong enough and destroy them. Them and all who support them. Drown the land in the blood of your enemies."

His homeland? Harry supposed the Shinigami meant England. Naruto had given Harry several history lessons on the magical conflict in England and Harry's own part in it. Harry had never really given any thought to returning there someday. He knew that he was being taught all of his master's skills and techniques for a reason. Harry had no illusions. There were no bonds of familial love between teacher and pupil. Harry James Potter was an investment, the last great achievement of Uzumaki Naruto's life's work: a worthy successor to his knowledge with the power to use it properly. But after his master passed on, which was not long, what then? Perhaps returning and confronting these mysterious 'enemies' would be something to do. If nothing else, at least a test of his skills.

"What do you get out of this?"

"At least you are smart enough to ask, boy. In your homeland, there are two in particular you must watch for. One has used foul magics and trickery to cheat me out of that which is mine: his soul. Destroy him. As for the second, he has an item of mine I gave to humans long ago. It is time for me to take it back. Retrieve it for me or destroy it. You will know what it is when you see it. You are very powerful, and the power of the Kyubbi no Kitsune will make you more so. Enough to become victorious in the end."

One of the women handed the Shinigami a parchment onto which a contract had been written out. The Shinigami produced a quill and pricked Harry's hand with it, covering the sharp end in his blood.

"Our agreement must be finalized in blood." He said.

Harry took the contract and read it. There seemed to be no loopholes or tricks that he could see. Everything they had discussed was on the contract. Harry quickly signed it, using his full name. _Hadrian James Potter_. Harry was a nickname, and not recognized legally.

"Very good." The Shinigami took the contract back and it disappeared up a sleeve. "The second Demon Avatar, Hadrian James Potter. Container of the Kyubbi no Kitsune. It has a nice ring to it. I like it."

"I'm glad you approve."

"Now hold still. This is going to hurt. _A lot_." Suddenly the Shinigami thrust a glowing hand into Harry's stomach. White fire filled his veins. Even screaming was too painful. Finally, the hand was taken out. It was leaking greenish energy. The last thing Harry saw was the Shinigami looking down at him and grinning, and the pale women, laughing at him and kissing one another.

* * *

_**A/N: This was the first chapter and the first time I've tried writing sexually explicit scenes, but it won't be the last. I'll try to keep them tasteful. As for the progress of this story, the next chapter will be the last chapter of the 'training years'. By chapter 5, Harry will be returning to the world at large and the Wizarding World. Please review and give any suggestions. I'm all ears.**_


	4. Konoha shall be your Grave

When he regained consciousness, Harry could barely move. His entire lower section was painful and raw. The area around his stomach was running alternately hot and cold. Looking down, Harry could see a seal glowing on his lower abdomen. And he was still naked.

Looking around, Harry was lying in some kind of passageway, or sewer. Water came up to the ankles and was freezing cold. Covering the walls, ceiling and floor were what looked like conduits or veins, pulsing with energy. They thrummed with power, heading towards a source in the distance in front of him. Harry began walking.

Very little time passed before Harry found himself in a large chamber. It appeared to be made of blue stone, and was covered again with those strange conduits. They all seemed to lead to an area on the far wall.

It was a cage with golden bars, set with a large circular lock in the middle, with the word SEAL carved into it in kanji. The word glowed, but appeared to be flickering and cutting out.

Harry was startled by a low, deep growl emanating from the cage. Suddenly, a light burst within, and the Kyubbi made itself known.

It was a massive fox, close to twenty feet high and about twelve feet wide. It alternately glowed with an inner fire and its skin crackled with blue electricity. Naruto had told him long ago that the Kyubbi no Kitsune's primary elemental affinities were lightning and fire. The Ninetails. Destruction and horror given form.

_**"Am I some sideshow animal to be gawked at, gaki?"**_

Harry collected himself and stopped staring. "I apologize, sir."

**_"Sir! Sir? I am no 'sir'. The sooner you understand that, the better off you will be. Make no mistakes, gaki. I am not happy about this. The Kyubbi no Kitsune, one of the most powerful demons of Makai, reduced to the level of a parasite...moving to a new host. The idea disgusts me. My pride is one of the few things I have left."_**

"Pride comes before a fall, fox. I don't have a choice. I need _your_ strength to destroy my enemies. You might even like it. A little blood, a dash of carnage and property damage, not the worst way to spend a few years, is it?"

_**"There is that...and I do like to fight."**_

"An understatement if I ever heard one, _baka_ fox. I promise, you will have plenty of opportunities to fight and kill my enemies."

**_"That is all one can ask, gaki. I have a feeling we're going to do terrible things together. We shall blaze a path of blood and fire that will change the world..."_** The fox began to chuckle in anticipation. _**"I can hardly wait."**_

"Shall we go?" Harry touched the lock on the cage and the SEAL kanji flared violently and then disappeared. The bars of the cage began to crack and disintegrate, vanishing into golden sparkles. The fox padded out, shaking itself. It then stood in front of Harry, it's nostrils flaring and sniffing.

_**"You stink of snakes, gaki. I hate snakes."**_

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

_**"We'll see."**_ A massive paw pinned Harry to the wet floor. The fox's massive tongue licked his face. _**"You can speak the snake language. Parseltongue...a rare gift. I do not approve, but it has possibilities. And what is this?"**_ The Kyubbi's teeth latched onto something on Harry's forehead. It's front paw continued to pin Harry to the floor as it pulled something out of Harry's forehead. **_"A curse scar..." _**It continued pulling, and with one final jerk pulled out a glowing shard of _something_. It glowed a sickly green, and it appeared to be screaming.

"What is that?!" Harry yelled.

_**"Quiet! Hmmm. A piece of a soul. How did you wind up with it? Ugh. It tastes...diseased. Still, waste not, want not."**_ The Kyubbi snapped up the _thing_ and ate it.

"That's disgusting."

_**"It is disgusting. My stomach doesn't agree with whatever it was. But still, a meal is a meal, and I haven't eaten in centuries."**_

"I'm glad I could oblige you then."

_**"Enough useless prattle. I wish to inspect my new home."**_ A passageway opened on the far side of the chamber and the fox padded through, followed by Harry. They reappeared in some kind of white space that stretched into infinity. Looking ahead, Harry saw two shapes approaching. They appeared first as specks in the distance, then as blobs, then as human figures. Eventually they focused into shape as Uzumaki Naruto and the Shinigami, swinging his scythe idly.

The four of them looked at one another, Death God, tailed demon fox, and two humans. Finally Naruto scratched his head and grinned.

"Looks like this is the divorce, _baka_ fox." He said nervously.

The fox somehow looked nervous as well. _**"I guess this is it, kit. You...were not as unpleasant as I thought you would be."**_

The Shinigami cut in. "Well this isn't awkward."

"Can we get started already?" Harry said.

At that, the Shinigami seemed to tap his scythe at a point in the air. A vortex opened, and the four of them stepped through.

* * *

Several thousand miles away high in a tower in a castle in Scotland, several silver trinkets were screaming, rousing Albus Dumbledore from a deep sleep. It was a good thing his office was soundproofed, otherwise the entire school would have been disturbed. Wiping the sleepiness from his eyes, Dumbledore focused on the large cabinet on the far wall behind his desk. There were three devices there, and they were all active and spinning madly. They were also glowing a deep red. 

Several years ago, there had been twelve such devices there, all exemplary examples of blood magic trackers and suppression block monitors. They had been tuned to the young Savior of the Wizarding World, the recently orphaned Harry Potter. Albus had seen his opportunity after the impossible had happened and Voldemort had been 'defeated' while young Potter lived. He was too old, and his powers only went so far when he had faced the Dark Lord in combat. His demise had actually been a small relief to Albus. He had some breathing room to prepare. Riddle was far too clever to die. He was still somewhere plotting and planning to rise again. Potter had been the key. Such power the boy had. Wild. Albus shuddered to think what would happen were those powers molded and made truly useful. It had been easier to seal them and find a nice holding place for the boy, give Albus time to think and come up with something. By the time the boy came to Hogwarts, surely he would have an idea of how to handle this.

But then the impossible happened. Not even two months after he had left the boy with his Muggle relations, the trackers had _reacted_, quite severely. Nine of them had exploded, showering Albus's office with debris. He had gathered up Minerva and Hagrid and made his way to Little Whinging in the dead of night. He had been greeted by the sights of a burning house and a hole in the ground. A Legilimency probe of several 'firefighters' told Albus that everyone inside the house was dead. Minerva and Hagrid had been beside themselves with concern for young Harry until Albus remembered that the last three trackers were intact. Potter was still alive, somewhere. Minerva and Hagrid had been slightly placated by this.

Dealing with the Ministry had been a problem. A very irritating one. Three Auror and Magical Detection squads had been dispatched to investigate the disturbance, which had been rated as 'high-level elemental magic' on the Ministry's detectors. Albus had been interested because elemental magic was volatile, and not many wizards or witches had the aptitude or power levels for it. Albus himself knew several such spells, but they were very taxing on his magical reserves. Albus had tried to use his influence at the Ministry to organize a worldwide search for Harry, but to no avail. The Ministry had consulted with the Goblins at Gringotts, who tracked the Old Families, of which the Potters were one of the oldest. If a family line became extinct, they would know of it. The Ministry did this partially because by law, when a family line died out, Gringotts were required to turn over all assets and monies to the Ministry. The prizes and gold of House Potter were a great temptation.

The Goblins had been quite offended by the greed the Ministry representatives showed and had taken some delight in informing all present that the last Potter was alive, somewhere. His location was seemingly blocked, to everyone. Owls, locater spells, _nothing_ could point to Harry Potter. The Goblin managers in charge of the Potter accounts had then decided to seal the Potter Vaults to outside access until such time as someone came for them. The boy was alive, and would conceivably return for them someday. The keys to the Potter Vaults Dumbledore had were destroyed over his protests. It had taken much of his hard earned leverage with the Goblins to get them to agree to alert him if anyone ever came to claim the Potter Vaults. That had been like pulling teeth.

Albus shook himself out of the blur of memories. The last three trackers began spinning and whirring, before exploding in a white flash and crumbling to silver dust. Fawkes had long ago taken shelter high above, perched on one of the paintings near the ceiling, out of harm's way. Albus vanished the debris before taking his seat and thinking. What did this mean? The first nine had been trackers related to monitoring the strength of the blood wards at Number 4, along with the integrity of the wards he had set up, and Harry and Petunia's anchors to the wards. Granted, Albus had been surprised at how weak the blood wards were soon after Harry had been placed there. Petunia's connection to them seemed close to nonexistent. Then the house had been destroyed and Petunia and her family had died, and Albus's plans had been sent screaming down the drain. The final destruction of these last three only made it worse. Albus had noticed odd surges periodically emanating from the trackers through the years. The boy had been resisting. Those surges became more constant in the last three to four years. Somehow, this was worse. The boy was already powerful, but if he had been actively resisting, his core would have only gotten stronger as the blocks attempted to continue to lock down. Now somehow those blocks had been broken. This was undoubtedly deliberate. The boy was in possession of the full range of his powers, and Albus had no idea what exactly they were. There was nothing that could be done now. The world was a big place, and Potter couldn't be found at present. His eleventh birthday was only a few short years away and then a reevaluation of the situation could be taken. He would have to talk to Severus when that happened. The boy would need a friend, a mentor to help him deal with the evil Potions Professor, after all.

* * *

The four of them appeared to be falling through a black void. There was a very slight sensation of movement and weightlessness. Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was falling through a black nothingness. The Shinigami, Naruto, and the fox were falling with him. Straight ahead, far in the distance, there was a large, bright sphere that pulsed with energy. In the void, it looked like a planet, or a sun. 

The Shinigami was grinning and howling. "What a rush!"

The sphere was getting closer, and they were falling faster and faster. The fox looked a little worried. Naruto looked at the Shinigami. "Stop screwing around!"

Suddenly their death drop stopped and the four of them leveled out. "Sorry about that." The Shinigami said. "Got a little too caught up in the excitement." They were now floating on an even plane with the sphere.

"What is this?" Harry asked. The sphere was large, almost as big as a house. Harry could slightly feel the magical discharges, and they felt...familiar? There was a web of purple-blue energy surrounding the sphere and in some areas, constricting it. In other areas, pieces of the webbing had eroded away.

"This is your magical core, young Potter." The Shinigami answered. "As you have already suspected, your powers have been locked away for quite a long time. These blocks are quite comprehensive too. This took a dedicated mage to do. You might want to look into that."

"Don't worry. I will." Harry ground out, his tone murderous.

"Quite a firecracker you have there, Naruto. Make sure you train him well. I'm expecting great things from him."

"Is that so?" Naruto said, looking at his student with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't worry." The Shinigami said. "I don't want _his_ soul. But there are quite a few souls I am interested in that he _will _deliver to me."

Naruto looked far from satisfied, but dropped the matter. He looked at Kyubbi. "If you'll get started, fox?"

The demon fox snorted and floated closer to the core. It then landed on the core and grabbed a strand of the energy web in its teeth, holding tight. The fox then began pulling with all its might, while pushing out its demonic energy. At this, Harry grabbed his chest and began screaming. The fox just turned up the power. The web appeared to be decaying and falling apart. Parts of the web appeared anchored into the core, and the fox rushed over to those points and pulled out the anchors.

It was finally done. Harry appeared still, but was alive. The entirety of the energy web was in the fox's mouth, and with a sharp snap of the head, it was floating in the ether, before returning to component particles. The Shinigami then floated Naruto and an unconscious Harry near the core, where with a gesture, a door opened to the core's interior. The fox went first, followed by Naruto, then Harry, and the Shinigami sealed the door after himself.

* * *

Harry sat up with a start. Losing consciousness seemed to be the motif for today. He was in a white space, similar to the one he was in before with the Kyubbi. The fox, Naruto, and the Shinigami were standing around him. 

"Where are we?" Harry asked, standing up.

_**"This is your mind, as empty as it is, gaki. There is a bright side. It least I'll have plenty of space. But some redecoration is in order...?"**_

As the fox stalked forward, the white space began changing and shifting. The whiteness gained color and shape until it coalesced to form a bright forest clearing, filled with trees. In the far corner was the entrance to a large cave. Following the fox, Harry and company saw the fox saunter in and lie comfortably on what looked like an enormous pile of gold that filled the large cavern, which was lit with torches imbedded in the walls.

"Nice digs." Naruto said.

_**"Better than a cage."**_ The fox shot back.

Harry knelt down and picked up one of what looked like millions of gold coins. As soon as Harry picked it up, something shot through his head. A memory? He could remember in perfect detail a rainy afternoon three years ago when he had learned how to make soldier pills and modify them. That had been a productive day, one of many.

"Are these... my memories?"

_**"Yes. Every memory, every feeling, everything you are is here, under my watch. As loath as I am to admit it, your memories, your knowledge are prizes that need to be protected. It will be a simple matter for me to do so. I did the same for your master, shielding his mind from mental intrusion."**_

"It appears the fox is happy with his new accommodations." The Shinigami said. The fox growled. It didn't like anyone guessing its true moods or motives. The Shinigami looked at Naruto and Harry. "Our time is almost up, Uzumaki, Potter. The bargain has been made, young Potter. I expect you to honor it, but there is no rush. I am patient. But should you fail, I will take _your_ soul, and the fox's as payment. I require many souls to make up for the fox's in the underworld. You _will_ provide." His tone brooked no argument.

"Yes sir." Harry said.

"There's no need to be formal, Potter." The Shinigami then looked at Naruto and whispered something in his ear. Naruto's expression hardened, then relaxed. "I understand. Thank you." He shook the Shinigami's hand, and suddenly a white pressure was building up around the two of them...

* * *

Returning to consciousness, Harry felt very little pain. He actually felt better than he had ever felt in his life. It felt as if a great tide of energy had struck him and he was swimming in it. Was this what his master felt every day? Because he felt great. He felt...indestructible. 

Sliding, falling was more like it, to the floor, Harry saw Naruto on his back, struggling to rise.

Rushing over and lifting Naruto to a sitting position, Harry checked his pulse, which was quite weak. There appeared to be something important that Naruto was now missing. What was it, specifically? Harry looked at his sensei's face. The six whisker marks that had always been there faded in a slight red glow, then disappeared and Naruto twitched slightly. Suddenly, Harry's heartrate shot up and Harry was holding his head. It felt like his skin was tearing itself to pieces. He looked at his reflection in a nearby mirror on the wall.

The jagged lightning bolt-shaped scar that had been on Harry's forehead all of his life suddenly closed and disappeared. His skin was unmarked, with no sign it had ever been there. Then on Harry's cheeks, one after another, six whisker marks appeared. They weren't scars but were more like very light tattoos. Harry was quite tanned from years of training outside in the sun, so the marks were not jarring. But they were noticeable. The other significant change was his hair. His hair used to be quite messy and unmanageable, but now it was spiky and stuck up, kind of like...fur. Just a little. So this was it, Harry supposed. He was now a demon container. All in all, the initial changes were very...not bad. The whisker marks were very _kawaii_, if he said so himself. The hair was also an improvement. But the 'improvements' were far from over. Harry remembered being told that if the procedure was successful, the Kyubbi would spend a significant amount of time adjusting or altering his body outright. The fox was a very prideful creature, and it refused to accept a weak vessel. The next few days would be filled with a severe amount of pain as Harry's body was retooled into a fighting machine, something his master had also gone through in years past.

Harry was surprised by how strong he felt. Everything seemed to be running at a hundred and twenty percent, for the moment. He lifted Naruto and exited the ceremony room, rushing down the hallway to the main quarters, where Naruto slept. Opening the door, Harry walked in. Naruto's quarters were very spartan. A cot in the corner, a bathroom, and a large table piled with various scrolls and documents. There were several chairs, including a couple near an open balcony area. Harry placed his master on his bed and took a seat nearby. Neither of them were in very good condition right now. Naruto would be dealing with a substantial power vacuum, while Harry would be dealing with finally having his powers unleashed, with a deep, near-infinite reservoir of power attached. There would be new challenges and problems to deal with in the near future. But right now, looking underneath the underneath, Harry felt as if finally things were swinging into place and coming together.

Just a few more years.

* * *

He knocked the foot away. He wasn't in the mood to be bothered. Hadrian James Potter was feeling pretty shitty right now. Most of the night he felt as if someone was squeezing and smashing his body. He could barely rest. It had started to get better about two hours ago, and finally stopped about twenty minutes ago. 

"Up I said." Harry could feel movement coming towards him again. In one move, he grabbed the foot and swung it, moving forward with an elbow to pin the offender against the wall, which shook with the impact.

Harry did all of this with his eyes closed.

He opened his eyes to see his sensei grinning. He looked alright, but there was something missing. What was it?

"At least your spider sense is working." Naruto said.

"What are you on about?" Harry said, not getting the reference.

"Nothing. You look good. Strong. That's good. I'm going to put you through the fire and back, boy. We don't have a lot of time, and there's too many things we need to cover." Harry released Naruto and he walked to the bathroom and washed his face.

"When do we start?"

Naruto dried himself off. "Today. After breakfast, of course. There are no more roadblocks to you learning jutsus, and you're already familiar with the theory and handseals, we're going to get started. But first, food. I'm in the mood for something filling today. Get to it."

* * *

Less than an hour later, the two of them were seated in the small dining room on the ground floor. Naruto was digging into his food, while Harry was picking at his, watching him. 

"Something on my face?" Naruto asked.

"You don't look good."

"I don't feel good. I feel my age. And before you ask, no. A lady never tells her age."

"You're no lady."

"Damn straight. But the rule still applies. Look. The fox kept me alive and kicking for a long time. There are times I think _too_ long maybe. But that's neither here nor there. I'm still dealing with...the loss of the fox. But even without it, I am powerful. Powerful enough to kick your ass if you mess up. See? Got a rise out of you. I'll...I'll be fine. There's too much to do for me not to be. Now eat your food."

* * *

The two of them were out in the training field twenty minutes later. Harry was struggling with his training weights. They were not chakra absorbing slugs like Rock Lee's, they were kunai that had been etched with micro seals which allowed them to become heavier. 

"You're pushing too much into it. The kunai should weigh a hundred pounds. Right now, they're at three fifty. We're probably going to go over chakra control again, now that you have more than enough chakra to control. Look, put down the weights for now. Chakra control can wait a little. I want you to get started on jutsus and get a feel for them. Any particular one you want to start with?"

"_Kage Bunshin no Jutsu_!"

"Why am I not surprised? I know you're excited, but tone it down. Emotional control. That's better. You're more than familiar with the seals. Let it rip."

"_KAGE BUNSHIN NO JUTSU_!"

"Three hundred is very good for a first try. Without the Kyubbi, someone could go maybe a hundred if they were powerful. Even without the Kyubbi, I can pull off close to two hundred. My reserves are quite large. A little background. The Kage Bunshin works best as a force multiplier. It makes one man into fifty. It is a large scale jutsu, and not for subtlety. It's for smashing the enemy. I'll teach you the tactics that work best with Kage Bunshin. Sufficient force can dispel the Bunshin, but how much force depends on how much energy you put into it. Kage Bunshin does its best to divide your energy equally among the clones. But the less clones, the more energy they have and the more hits they can take. But the most important point about Kage Bunshins is that when they are dispelled, whatever knowledge they have accumulated returns to you. But this is also a problem. Were I to dispel all three hundred of these Bunshins at once, you would get a severe headache from processing all that information at once. Dispelling twenty at a time is a safe bet and at a level you can tolerate.

Moving on to tactics, squad formations and teamwork are a must to win using Kage Bunshins..."

* * *

"...most offensive jutsus are elemental in nature. The ones that are not are related to the bloodline limits and not applicable here. The fox may have changed our bodies and fine tuned them far beyond human limits, but we have no _actual_ special abilities. The fox did optimize our senses and make our bones denser, we are stronger and faster, heal faster, but that's about it. Things like the Kage Bunshins are more about slinging power around than about special abilities. 

I can tell you from practical experience that wizards are familiar with elemental spells, but I saw few that were as powerful as a Katon or a Futon jutsu. Wizards use wands to focus their energies. But wands rarely can process anything _truly_ destructive. They can toss out Killing Curses and Bone Breaking Curses, things like that, but they're still limited. This is not to say wizards are not dangerous, because they are. But without wands, wizards are much easier to handle. You, on the other hand, will not be.

Manipulating the elements to any great effect requires a different kind of focus, namely _you_, instead of a wand. Handseals, as you know, are a closer focus than a wand. The time needed to process the energy from inside you to what you want is much quicker. But again, using a wand does have it's own merits. You will have to know both."

"What can the wand do, then?"

"It's very useful for low to mid level manipulation of energy, and specific effects and paths, including some high level effects. For example, transfiguration, the science of changing one thing for another, is very specific and precise. There are wizards that are extremely dangerous using transfiguration in battle. Jutsus are for power to effect, namely damage. Wizards are slightly more subtle, but only slightly. They are still very stupid about a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Wizards are very gullible. Living in a world where there are few actual limits means that there is very little out of the realm of disbelief. The rules change every day. Take you, for instance. The wizards consider you a hero for deflecting the Killing Curse. Now by the look on your face, you feel the same about that as I do. The truth is that as a demon container, I was able to recover from a Killing Curse as well. It's not impossible, but not something you want to be doing at the drop of a hat. Now if we can get started, the Kyubbi's elemental affinities are lightning and fire. Your own affinity is for wind, just like me. What that means specifically is that these three elements are the ones that you will be able to use the easiest. Wind more so than the others because it is _your own_ element. Fire and lightning really belong to the fox and you won't be able to use them as smoothly as wind. We'll start with Futon jutsus..."

* * *

"...sit still and look at me. This is very important. We've already covered genjutsus. They are similar in a way to a skill the wizards have, called legilimency." 

"That's the one where they can read your mind, right?"

"The mind can't be 'read', per se. Think of your mind as a river, flowing with information. Your information. Legilimency is like fishing for that imformation. Energy is used as a probe to look for specific information. Genjutsus work similarly to legilimency, in a way. I don't want to confuse you, but there are many similarities and differences between the two. Genjutsus work by interacting with the mind and chakra of the target to create illusions to fool and deceive them. Genjutsus can be visible or invisible, although genjusus that are visible take up slightly more energy. Look at it like this: instead of probing the mind, a genjutsu user fools the mind. illusions work much better than mental probes.

What we will be doing, in addition to your practical training, I will be using a form of genjutsu on you every couple of days around this time. Beyond the essentials you need to know, there are skills that you _must_ have, but I don't have the time to teach you. This is a modified Yamanaka mental technique used to extract information. What I will be doing is the reverse, implanting specific memories and skills into your mind. The fox will be able to process them safely into your memories, so you don't suffer any imbalances."

"I don't know about this...I rather like my mind, I'm not too comfortable with endangering it."

"I am your sensei. Have I steered you wrong yet? The fox will have no problem with this, and the modifications I made to the technique are sound. You want to get stronger, don't you? See? You are interested. This will be fun. Learning how to create your own weapons and equipment, and the other taijutsu styles I know, among other things. This seriously cuts down on the time you need to learn things, but you will need to test these skills practically so I know the implants are holding. I can only do this for about three hours before I get a headache, though. Genjutsus were never my strong suit. Besides this one, I know only about 12, and three of them are solely dedicated to shielding Konoha from prying eyes. There are plenty of scrolls on it that might be worth looking at."

"Okay. What will we be starting on first?"

"There is a fighting style called Gentle Fist that I modified quite heavily. It originally needed a bloodline limit to be used effectively. I've simplified it a little, and it will work perfectly with your skills with pressure points. Along with this, there is a jutsu that I'm going to show you that will work perfectly with this: creating Chakra Scalpels."

"You told me about those. Didn't one of your enemies use that technique against you?"

"...Yes. His name was Kabuto. I hated his guts, but he had real skill. I learned from him and used his skills against him. He was primarily a med-nin, but could fight with the best of them. He could shrug off damage that would have killed lesser men. Learning his technique will be easier since you are familiar with Tsunade's super strength technique that I showed you."

"Yeah. last time I practiced, I was able to crack a tree in two using two fingers."

"When I'm done with you, you'll only need one. Now focus and clear your mind. Find your center. The fox will create a pathway through your mental defenses for this..."

* * *

"What's so special about this kunai? The seals do look familiar, though. They look almost like...summoning seals...?" 

"They are summoning seals. What they will summon...is you."

"A little more explanation is needed, I think."

"See that tree down there? Toss the kunai there. Hell of a good throw! You _are _paying attention when we go over weapons. Anyway, watch this."

FLASH!

"Wow. That was...that was...incredible?"

"Yes it was. Used effectively, this technique _will_ turn the tide of battle in your favor. See this seal on my arm? It activates when I push energy into the corresponding seal on the kunai. The kunai has three prongs and works as an anchoring point. When these two seals are activated, a stream of chakra is created tying the two together. Activate the seal on you, and you are summoned to the seal on the kunai. The flash effect is created by you moving through the stream at the speed of light. Use this smart, and victory is so much closer. Now, the downsides. A large amount of energy is used by this technique, as it can break through any known shield or ward. I should know, since I've used it in engagements with wizards. Do not use this frivolously. This technique is an advantage that is invaluable."

"I understand. The jutsu, if you will?"

"Its _Hiraishin no Jutsu_."

"Hmmm. Flying Thunder God Technique. I like it."

* * *

_March, 1991..._

Harry woke up later than usual. His training had been even more intense and focused in the last year or so. So much had been covered. _Rasengan_...something called the _Chidori_... the _Kawarimi_...too many jutsus to name, along with a million other things. Fighting styles, medical jutsus, guerrilla combat, on and on. Killing intent had been very exciting. He finally mastered the Chakra Scalpel technique about six months ago. Now _that_ was something truly deadly. Focusing his energy to create five bluish-white knives on the tips of his fingers...they were very useful. He had managed to use them in a sparring session a few months ago and scored several critical hits on Naruto. While healing him, Harry had discovered the secondary use for Chakra scalpels. Focusing micro pulses of energy inside damaged tissue with the scalpels caused the tissue to heal at an exponential rate. Maintaining the focus for precise pulses had been another chore altogether.

After dressing in his training uniform, he walked around. The place was deserted. He hadn't been prodded to make breakfast, or anything. Where was Naruto? This was unlike him. Maybe he was outside. It was a sunny, clear day, perfect for physical activity.

Naruto was standing near the treeline of one of the training areas, watching the sun rise over the trees. He turned when Harry approached. Like Harry, he was wearing a training uniform all in black. Harry paused at this. Naruto normally didn't wear black. Something was off.

He had a strange look in his eye, and a small smile, barely noticeable. In Naruto's hands were two _katanas_. He tossed one to Harry in a easy throw. Catching it, Harry recognized it as one of the first weapon he had ever forged in the workshop in the house. The memory implants had taken to Harry quite well and he had become very adept in forging his own weapons and customizing them. This _katana_, for instance, Harry had made it so it actually had two blades, side by side. (A/N: Think Kadaj's sword from FFVII: Advent Children) The metal was a type of alloy and incredibly light and durable.

Seeing his student's questioning look, Naruto spoke.

"You have been a diligent student. Attentive, respectful, consistently striving to improve yourself and grow stronger, both as a fighter and as a person. I chose well, on that day. But the time has come for us to part. There are no more lessons, save one. This is the most important, so pay attention."

"I am listening."

"Long ago, someone asked me what was true strength. At the time I was young and stupid, so I thought I had the answer. I was wrong. I continued to grow stronger, but the question still nagged at me. I fought and prevailed over all of my enemies, Orochimaru, Sasuke, Akatsuki, my own personal demons. Everyone I ever loved or cared about faded away and left. My home broke apart and I was left alone. I moved through the centuries, but still, like a splinter in my mind, the question nagged at me.

But it was not until recently that I thought of a sufficient answer. Do you know what true strength is? It is in living your life with no regrets. In this you will not only be strong, you will be free. By the day's end, you will understand this. You will not regret my death."

"..."

"I have been hunting my own death for many years. My body is failing. I am...not as I once was. My will to live has faded, but I wish to die on my feet, and give you a final gift."

"A gift?"

"A gift. You have the skills, the instincts, the intensity to become great, to bend the world and those who dwell in it to your will. But all of this is useless if you cannot use it. You will use it today, or you _will_ die."

"...?"

"You doubt me? I have invested everything in you, boy. _Everything_. I wish to see that it has not been for nothing. Even taking into account my own...difficulties, and the fact that you now hold the Kyubbi, I can still strike you down."

"This is what you truly want?"

"Yes. I am prepared for the next world. I have lingered in this one long enough. Now, prepare yourself."

* * *

A bloodied and broken Harry Potter broke through Naruto's defense. It had taken three hours, and much of his life blood spilled upon the ground, but it had been done. A parrying strike, a roundhouse kick, and the killing blow had been delivered. 

Naruto dropped his blade and sat ungracefully on the ground under a tree, enjoying the shade from the noon sun. He took his hand away from his side. The strike had been lucky, but in a life or death struggle, luck won the day as much as skill. He looked up. His student set his blade down on the ground and walked over, sitting down and leaning on the tree next to him. The Kyubbi was already healing the more severe lacerations and cuts on his chest. The wounds were closing up rapidly. The boy's broken wrist would take slightly longer to heal. The damage had been severe, but not out of the fox's power to repair. The boy's skeletal structure had been reinforced, but Naruto knew all of the weak points, as he shared the same alterations.

The boy took a cursory glance at the wound he had inflicted. The fox could have dealt with such a wound within a few hours, but without the Kyubbi, it was a mortal blow for him. Naruto had expended much of his strength in the fight, and what little he had left was ebbing away. Naruto looked around. The field was heavily scarred from the backlash of several highly destructive jutsus. Naruto was slightly proud of the boy. He had fought with the intent to kill, which had been the entire point. His use of the Kage Bunshins to smash him had been inspired, a cover for a sneak attack that had begun to turn the tide in the boy's favor.

"I think it's safe to say you understood the lesson I was trying to teach you." Naruto's attempt to lighten the mood barely helped. The boy would recover from this, but this, the first kill, he would always remember. Even after all of these centuries, Naruto remembered Haku. He had gone berserk and snapped his neck with one mighty blow, on that mission to the Wave, all those years ago. This was necessary. More death was in the boy's future. His own death was in at least a controlled environment, where the boy could learn something, understand the true extent of the power he now wielded. That made this worth it.

"How do you feel?"

"I-I don't feel much of anything."

"You will. I want you to understand something. In this world, the way it is, people die every day. I am not going into the grave alone. The world will move on whether or not I am in it. I have done all I could to leave a mark on it. You are a part of that and that is more than anyone can ask for. I can see that you don;t understand. That's alright. But think on my words, what I have tried to impress upon you. I chose you above all others for a reason."

"I will try."

"See that you do. I shall leave it up to you to perform the necessary arrangements? I will say this to you. Grow stronger. A man has no limits. Use what I have given you to live well."

"What you have given me?"

"Yes. Everything I have has been placed in your name. I trust you'll be able to find the documents. You feel that settling sensation? You are the new master of Konoha. I will say this: the world is a big place, and this is only a very small part of it."

The boy sat with Naruto for another five minutes. He then checked, then stood up. A Katon jutsu consumed the body, rendering it to ash. Harry then walked over and picked up his sensei's sword, then his own. He then hobbled back to the tower. He had to rest and regain his energies, then he had many other things to do. The world was a big place, and Konoha was only a small part of it. He now had the resources to see it, fulfill Naruto's wishes to explore and grow stronger. Build himself.

* * *

Two days later, Harry Potter was dressed and looking at the spot where his master had died. The grass was slightly burned from the Katon jutsu, but was regrowing. There was a breeze blowing. 

There was a small memorial stone erected. Nothing flashy. Simple and to the point, like he would have wanted.

_Uzumaki Naruto_

_The will of fire lives on..._

Nothing more needed to be said. Who Uzumaki Naruto was, Harry would know, and that was all that had mattered. The man had given his life to teach him something, make him stronger. Make him stronger for what was a question Harry would have to find out on his own.

It had been months since the fox had stirred within him. He had been taught how to work with the fox to properly utilize the fox's might, but the fox had been silent for a long time. Even during the fight with its first container. But it had reestablished itself in his mind soon after. It was eager to leave Konoha. Harry was too. He had never seen the world outside of it. He had looked at some of the documents in Naruto's rooms. The details of accounts in the hundreds of millions were enclosed, now in Harry's name. He now had the resources to do whatever he wanted.

_**"In the end, this was what he wanted."**_ The fox rumbled. _**"You did as he wanted and honored him. Take his message to heart. You will understand it better as you continue to progress and grow older."**_

Harry felt no regret, as Naruto wanted. He understood, a little. Live life with no regrets, no guilt. They were emotions that could destroy someone. Without them, the sky was the limit.

_**"You understand."**_ The fox said, tapping into his train of thought. _**"Let us go."**_

Harry was dressed with a traveling bag filled with essentials. He would return to Konoha someday, it was his. But not anytime soon. Distance, time, and new experiences would dull some of what he was feeling. The illusions and shields hiding and protecting Konoha would hold for years to come, and he had some of the more interesting scrolls to study during his travels, along with other things.

Konoha was in Harry's past. It had been his world. The future would be different. But he was prepared. That was the important thing.

* * *

_**A/N: This chapter was an enormous hurdle I had to get over, and I hope I succeeded. Canon HP events will begin, within reason, and with my own spin on things.**_

_**I am delighted I got so many people putting this story on their favorites and story alerts. This was just a plot bunny that got away from me, but I am motivated to continue now, it should be slightly easier to write now that I have parameters to work with.**_

_**I want to address a couple of things.**_

_**It was asked will I be making this a Marvel/DC crossover since I mentioned a couple of characters from the comics a couple chapters back. No. I mentioned Lady Shiva and Dhalsim and Pai Mei because they are great fighters, as Harry will be. They are truly dangerous people, as Harry will be. Harry Potter in the novels never talks much about what exists outside of the established Wizarding World, in the Muggle world, so I figure it's free game to go wild and toss in whatever I feel like.**_

_**One thing. This will not be a super!Harry story. Let me be clear. What this is...look. Voldemort and Dumbledore both are wizards with years of experience on Harry Potter. What Harry does have are these skills that are relatively unknown to wizards. Shinobi lived and in the case of this story, died out in the shadows. Jutsus and their various skills, they are Harry's advantage against Voldmort's violence or Dumbledore's manipulations and schemes, which I will explore more in coming chapters. In his own way, because of his knowledge, Harry can break even against wizards or win. But again, I will explore how Harry with his shinobi skills and abilities impact things in the future. I'm still thinking. It won't be blatant, at least. **_

_**Please review. Be detailed. The next chapter begins the Hogwarts and Philosopher's Stone saga!**_


	5. Clash

A/N: I am very glad that people like this story. It was a plot bunny that ran away with me that had to come out. And with over 50 reviews for only 4 chapters, I have to continue now, don't I? I would be a crime if I didn't. So I will.

I've gotten a ton of 'favorite story' alerts from a ton of people. I've also gotten some good feedback from people in reviews, although I have had 3 or 4 who have given long reviews with some...off the wall ideas would be the best way to put it.

There are 2 or 3 things I want to clarify, in terms of this story. The shinobi culture that Naruto grew up in in the backstory of this fic, consider it 'canon' Naruto. But it is over. The shinobi lived and died out in the shadows, like ninja should. As said before, Harry is really the last person to be brought up in a semi-shinobi fashion, and it is up to him to make sure that what shinobi are, their skills, their talents, their ethics, etc. don't die out. He was raised in this fashion, and I will further explore how this impacts the Wizarding World in the future, because it will. Quite frankly, it has to.

It has also been addressed by some people about hiding Harry's shinobi abilities. To an extent, that will be the case. The 'big mystery' of where Hadrian James Potter has been for the last ten years will stay just that, a mystery, except for the few people to which the truth or parts of it will be divulged. An advantage of Harry's past being a mystery is that he could do a lot of things and while they might be strange, because Harry's background is not known, people can't really pry and find out his secrets.

Quickly on the subject of names, it was said in a review why am I calling Harry Hadrian? One, because I can, and it sounds distinguished. I like it. Not many people will know that Harry is short for Hadrian. As to why that is the case? Because I want it to be. Don't read into it too much. But getting back on topic. An open display of jutsu knowledge and public use won't be in the cards until the Triwizard Tournament, which is quite a ways away. He will continue to train and grow stronger, but people won't have a good idea about Harry's true strength for a good long while, if ever.

A good ninja keeps everyone guessing, after all.

One last topic I want to address is the subject of pairings. I'm still trying to hammer out a particular 'romantic' writing style that doesn't come off as sappy or hyper-sexualized. Perhaps a dash of both, within reason. As far as females go, whether it be one female or the ever popular harem, what I will say is that Harry's opportunities will be wide open for any and all females.

Narcissa? Maybe.

Bellatrix? Could be pulled off.

Tonks? Gotta think about it, but looks promising.

Parkinson? Fuck Draco Malfoy! Harry Potter is an infinitely better catch and could happen.

Fleur Delacour, sexiest Veela of the millennium? She will have a LOT of competition.

Hermione? Has that sexy-smart thing going for her. Sexy librarian. Juicy. She will at least get a chance.

Ginny? Has that annoying fangirl thing going on. I will try to break her of that when she is introduced.

I could go on and on about pairings. What I am promising is that every female will get screentime with the last Potter and a chance. He's just that good. As far as a final pairing goes, I have a while to think about it and steer things in that direction, if I do so at all. I think what I am trying to say is that all females will get a chance. Even teachers. I will say this. Minerva is not as old as she appears, and deserves a shot.

The cat could be scratched, if you get my drift.

Umbridge? _**Not**_ going to happen. Because that...is just disgusting.

Excuse me while I throw up.

Please, give your input into these ideas of mine that I've expressed. Detailed analysis and opinions would be most appreciated, and welcome.

Now, on with the story.

* * *

_Hong Kong, July 14, 1991..._

It was raining, and that was perfect.

The heavy downpour meant that there wouldn't be many people in the area, and that was good, as that meant privacy.

With a sharp _snap_, Harry broke the neck of the one who had come running at him with the chain and dropped him to the ground, where he stared at the sky, the light dying in his eyes. Looking around, Harry could see that the last six had drawn guns and targeted him.

_Guns_...Harry thought either the Triad operatives that had been sent after him were either getting serious, or getting desperate. He still wasn't worried.

But he was irritated. He was wearing his weighted kunai underneath his clothes, to continue his strength training. Without the weights, his speed was well above normal human limits.With them however, Harry could only register as slightly above average. Close to a thousand pounds of weight were distributed evenly on his arms and legs. If he was really training, and not out and about in the world, two thousand pounds would be the maximum he could handle.

He had come to Hong Kong nearly a month ago, on the fox's directions. Naruto had operated as an assassin for many years, and in the modern era, had worked freelance, but he had been affiliated with many groups in Asian organized crime, namely the Triads and the Yakuza. These groups along with several other smaller organizations ran an underground bank of sorts for assassins, smugglers, and all sorts of criminals that had dealings with them throughout Asia. Naruto's identity had never been known to them, only the alias of 'Kitsune'. Kitsune had been a name that was treated with equal amounts of fear and respect. Naruto had been a _very_ dangerous individual, who had never failed an assignment. He had an account with this bank worth well over two hundred million dollars. Nearly a decade ago, Naruto had come to the chairmen who ran this bank and told them he would be taking no more assignments for the foreseeable future, as he had taken on an apprentice. He had stated that when this apprentice came to them, whenever that may be, they were to transfer all accounts and monies over to him, no questions asked. This had been a strange request, but Naruto _was_ a dangerous individual. Questioning him was bad for one's health.

Soon after arriving in Hong Kong, Harry had been directed to the club where the chairmen held court, and after breaking the arm of a bouncer who refused to let a ten year old boy in, was granted an audience with them. It had taken twenty minutes, and an unhealthy application of force on one of the chairmen, a young punk named Long, who laughed at the idea that this 'little boy' was who he claimed to be. Harry took exception to this underestimation of his abilities and of his master's training and broke his leg, along with the legs of three bodyguards who foolishly got in his way. No one was killed, but there was plenty of pain to go around. Needless to say, the transaction to transfer the accounts in question had gone through swiftly. Harry had decided to keep the accounts under the name 'Kitsune', but changed the passcodes and get a new, untraceable bank card. The chairmen had asked if by keeping the name 'Kitsune', did that mean that he was taking up his master's mantle and wished to work for them?

A ten year old assassin was not unheard of, after all.

Harry had chuckled and said _"I'm only ten years old. I don't know what I want to do with my life yet. I will say this; I'm not opposed to the idea."_ He then left.

That had been about six hours ago. Harry had returned to his hotel for a short time and took a shower and changed his clothes. He had left Konoha with several things; a heavy-duty storage scroll containing many techniques that interested him that could hold him over for a few years, a second storage scroll holding several of his more prized weapons, including his double-bladed _katana_ and throwing knives, and a third scroll that held several changes of clothes and money that Naruto had stored away, about forty thousand dollars. Searching through Naruto's belongings, Harry had found many clothes that could fit him. Due to the fox's genetic tampering of his body, Harry was currently 5'6, and packed with hard muscle with very little baby fat. Harry would finally top out at close to 7'0 by the time he was eighteen, which was fine with him. Height was an intimidation factor, which could work for him in a fight.

He had then gone back out, simply walking and exploring the city. He had also done this in Tokyo, which was the first large metropolitan city Harry had ever seen. Konoha was sealed and hidden for the moment under a large scale illusion genjutsu that only Harry could bring down. Harry had been surprised and a little shocked by Tokyo. So many people...so much of everything. It was a little overwhelming, especially to someone who had grown up in seclusion, like Harry had. Luckily the Kyubbi had explained much of the dynamics of modern life, and after a few days, Harry became more comfortable and acclimated.

But there were one...odd thing that Harry noticed. First and foremost, it was how animals reacted to him. He had seen many people with pets, such as cats and dogs. The animals seemed incredibly fearful of his presence. Snakes, on the other hand, were quite agitated and violent. Harry had known that he was a Parselmouth for several years, ever since the fox had told him during their joining, so Harry was able to understand clearly that snakes viewed him with a fight or flight response, seeing him as an extremely dangerous predator. When he had questioned the Kyubbi about this, the fox had said that all animals to an extent could sense his presence, even if his demonic energies were being suppressed, which Harry was doing. Magical animals could determine what he was better than normal animals, and Harry would have to watch out for that.

Harry had been in one of the side shopping alleys in downtown Hong Kong, thinking about what to buy. Clothes seemed first on the list. The fox was very insistent about that. Kyubbi no Kitsune was a very vain and proud creature, and it insisted its vessel look his best. Several of the Muggle fashions did interest Harry. Naruto's clothes consisted mainly of jeans and tough, durable clothes. Those were all well and good, but Harry waned to dress in style.

It had started raining a few minutes ago, and then Harry had noticed the eight people surrounding him, staying in the shadows and trying to flank him. The rain had become a heavy downpour, and may people retreated indoors. Harry rather liked the rain, and continued walking. He couldn't get sick. The fox wouldn't allow it. He had stopped and leaned against the wall of a restaurant.

"Might as well come out. No one can hide from me."

And it was true. The Kyubbi had radically enhanced Harry's senses. Part of his training with Naruto had been how to properly utilize them. His hearing, eyesight, sense of smell, and sense of taste had been boosted and refined. With enough concentration, Harry was able to determine individual pheromones and scent patterns. These eight smelled of sweat and gun oil, which told Harry a lot.

The first two had come out, trying to box him in. "Master Long wishes to have a word with you." One of them said. Pathetic. He had broken the coward's leg and still he underestimated him, thought him a child who could be scared by thugs. No doubt Long wished to get Harry's financial information and take Harry's new accounts for himself. Two hundred million dollars was a lot of money. Greed was quite a motivator. Long probably wished to torture him as well. He had lost face, first by protesting to an agreement the chairmen had made with Naruto, someone who had done much work on behalf of their various organizations and never failed. Secondly by losing to a child. No one would say it, but Long was quite the master of martial arts himself, or at least he thought so. No ten year old child, no matter how talented, should have been able to injure Long so. But Harry did. In the minds of the other chairmen, Long was becoming all talk and looked weak.

Despite Long's motivations, or lack of such, Harry would not stand for this. No one threatened his life and lived. This was a rule that had been hammered into him and one that Harry took to heart. Even Naruto, who Harry had not seen as a father figure, but had cared for, in a way, had not been exempt from this rule. The thugs had picked up on Harry's defiance and made to attack him, the first two swinging heavy chains at his head. Ducking them, Harry aimed a palm strike at the closest one, knocking him back. He then tripped the other one and as he was falling forward, struck him in the nose, driving the bones upward, into the brain. The man died in seconds, blood streaming from his face.

The second one backed off a little, recovering from the strike. Harry did not put that much force into it. Swinging at Harry again, Harry evaded, and the chain slammed into the nearby wall, cracking brick with the force. Grabbing and pulling the chain, Harry got in close with his attacker and hit him with a knife strike to the throat. While the man was struggling to breathe, Harry struck out with a sharp kick to the leg, bringing the man down. Catching him by the scruff of his shirt, Harry broke his neck.

Dropping the body to the ground, Harry could see the last six had drawn guns and were targeting him.

The leader of this little suicide squad had been evaluating him. "Very good, but no more theatrics, boy. You _will_ be coming with us."

Was that so? This fool would need an army, and even then, he would have problems. Did these petty crooks and bullies think he would be easy prey? Dealing with Hadrian James Potter was not like dealing with some old shopkeeper, shaking him down for protection money. Maybe they thought the fact that they had weapons made a difference. Hardly. Harry _was_ a weapon. If it came down to it, he needed no knives or swords to strike someone down, although they made things infinitely easier.

In a sharp movement, Harry booted the body at his feet at the leader, knocking him down hard and sending him crashing into a wall. He then was moving. One was getting ready to shoot, but Harry's iron grip on his arm diverted his shot and he shot his comrade in the head. Harry then twisted the man's arm around until his own gun was pointing at him, and forced the man to shoot himself in the face.

Using the man's body as a shield, Harry blocked several incoming shots and body slammed another shooter with the body of his associate. As the man struggled to get out from under the body, Harry crushed his throat with his heel. Leaping out of the way of several more incoming shots, Harry grabbed a nearby metal trashcan lid and threw it with impressive force at another man. Apparently in the heat of the moment, Harry didn't know his own strength and crushed his skull with the lid.

That was...different.

The last three men were eliminated in under a minute, the last man silenced with a blow powerful enough to snap his neck. Harry looked at his bloodstained fist. He would have to seriously work on measuring his strength. The super strength technique Naruto had taught him was _too_ efficient against most people. He hadn't meant for the last blow to be a killing blow. He could have gotten information out of the last one.

Oh well. He knew who was behind this. Harry would have to make a public demonstration of his _displeasure_ with this attempt on his life.

Harry looked up. Sirens. He was surprised that law enforcement had taken this long to make its presence known. Running down a nearby alley, Harry disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

It was dinnertime at the Golden Dragons club, and preparations for the nighttime shift was beginning. The girls were in the dressing rooms, getting ready for their sets. The kitchens were taking dinner orders. The second floor of the club was exclusively for management and VIPs, such as the nine chairmen of one of the world's most private underground banks, whose worth was estimated at close to half a trillion dollars. There were three Yakuza chairmen, three Triad chairmen, and three other chairmen, one each representing the three smaller criminal organizations that partook of illegal activities throughout Asia. 

Currently, these nine men were seated at a long table, eating fine cuisine and relaxing. It was custom that during this time, business was put to the side. Enjoyment of one's food should not be tainted by the pervasive needs of their occupation. One man seated at the table was in a wheelchair, his leg in a cast and wearing several bandages covering bruises. A broken leg was Long's major injury, but he had been given several minor ones.

Another seated at the table paused in drinking his wine and smirked, looking at the injured man. He was known as Shimura, a Yakuza. "Long..." He looked up, a scowl on his face. Ever since this morning, Long had been on the receiving end of a slew of jokes and wisecracks about his skill, or lack of it. Even some of the older members of the committee found it amusing. Long knew he was not well liked. He found much of the codes these old fools lived by, or claimed to live by antiquated and unworthy. It would be correct to say that Long was thought of as a young punk who needed some respect beaten into him. The fact that an unknown, a child, even if he was the only student of Kitsune, a man they all knew and feared with good reason, had disciplined Long was thought of as hilarious.

How hilarious would these fools think it when his men brought the boy in front of them, bleeding and begging for his life? No young pup would show him up like that. That just was not how things were done.

Long was about to say something when the skylight above the table shattered. The chairmen all jumped away and drew their weapons, aiming up, prepared for an attack. What could have happened? There were heavily armed men posted on the roof! Shimura then look a glance at Long, who didn't seem to be moving. Slowly every man in the room turned to look.

Long was slightly slumped in his wheelchair, looking up. There was an expression of complete surprise on his face, and growing from his forehead like some strange flower was the handle of a throwing knife, buried to the hilt in Long's head. He was most definitely dead. Long then slowly slid out of the wheelchair and hit the ground with a meaty _THUD_.

The tinkling of glass brought eight guns aimed back up at the shattered skylight. In the darkness, a nondescript shape could be made out. What did alert everyone was the two intense green eyes staring down at them from the blackness. They looked like the eyes of a predator.

A slow drawl came wafting down from on high. "I would kindly ask you gentlemen not to follow in the footsteps of poor Mr. Long. His actions became bad for his health and the health of eight men who worked for him. I don't take well to threats or intimidation, please remember that. The guards patrolling the roof are alive and relatively unharmed. As for me, I consider this matter finished. Do you?"

Looking around, everyone seemed to be in agreement. No one had really liked Long, and his death? He tried to step on the wrong person and paid for it. It was only unfortunate he could not let it go and eight others, valuable soldiers for the organization, paid the price for Long's stupidity. But sometimes these things happened. There was no profit in revenge against someone who possessed the skills this boy did.

"We do." Shimura answered.

"Good. I would have hated for this to interfere with any kind of relationship I might have had with your various organizations in the future. Thank you for your grace and understanding in this matter." All this formality was not something Harry was used to, or liked, but the fox insisted on it, and Harry was slightly interested in work from these people several years down the road.

With that, Harry stepped away from the skylight and disappeared into the evening shadows.

* * *

Harry entered his hotel room and sat down on the bed after removing his sword from underneath his coat and unstrapping his bandolier of throwing knives. Harry never wore the weighted kunai he used for training when he was doing serious work. Removing his coat, he walked over to the bathroom of the suite and turned on the faucet, running a wet hand through his spiky hair. It was jet black, and stood straight up and slightly to the back. (A/N: Think Vash the Stampede's hair from Trigun.) It made him look even taller than he already was. 

Whoa. Looking in the mirror, his eyes _were_ intense. Harry had quite a stare, probably due to the fox's alterations. Harry had very little problems seeing in the dark and his eyes seemed to adjust to light more than automatically. Perhaps getting some dark shades were in order. His eyes were noticeable, and distinctive. Harry had noticed people staring somewhat when he had been on the street earlier, before the..._unpleasantness_. The last thing Harry wanted was more attention. He already got enough because of the whisker marks. But he _liked_ those. He had heard more than one girl call him 'cute'. Combined with a smile and flash of white teeth, more than one female turned to jelly. Several women, too.

Thinking about it, Harry had seen a set of silver men's earrings he liked earlier. The shades and the earrings, they equaled a very cool look.

And what was Hadrian James Potter, if not cool?

Thinking about this, Harry walked back out into the main suite. He was broken out of his thoughts by a _tapping_ at the nearby window.

An owl, of all things, was trying to get in.

Opening the window, the owl perched on a nearby chair. When Harry approached, it screeched somewhat. Like all other animals, it sensed what he was on some level. Harry had to order the fox to suppress its energy flow into him, and after doing so, the owl calmed down somewhat. Harry supposed that in the future, Harry would have to severely dampen the fox's demonic energy emissions to avoid suspicion. He would have to talk to the fox about that.

There was a letter written on some type of parchment, tied to the owl's leg. Harry untied it and opened it up.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

_Hadrian James Potter..._

_Suite 920, Lancaster Hotel, Hong Kong..._

_We are pleased to invite you to attend Hogwarts...term begins September 1st..._

_Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall..._

_List of supplies..._

_Diagon Alley..._

The fox's wheels were spinning, Harry could feel it. Harry was also thinking. Hogwarts...in England. He _did _have business there, after all. And developing his skills with a wand were a must. He couldn't rely solely on jutsus, not when there were other avenues to explore as well. The jutsus had to say hidden for the foreseeable future. This could be an opportunity, and the fox agreed.

There had been a blank sheet of parchment alongside the admissions letter. Finding a pen in a nearby drawer, Harry sat down and began composing a response. Five minutes later, he tied it to the owl's leg and sent it on his way.

Hogwarts...in England. This was unexpected, but not totally unwelcome. He had something to do, conceivably for the next several years while he made plans. Returning to the Wizarding World. Harry had been told about it, most of it had been highly unflattering descriptions from Naruto.

Maybe the old man had been right, maybe not. He would make travel arrangements in the morning. Thinking about this, it really was good. Harry had killed a Triad member tonight. A fade from Hong Kong until things cooled down might be a good idea. The fact that nobody had liked Long was also a plus. But a change of scenery might be needed for a while.

* * *

_**A/N: I know I said Harry would be introduced to the Wizarding World in this chapter, but I had to cover the loose ends caused by Naruto's death. This was one of them. Maybe there will be others. I haven't thought of any yet. Maybe there won't be. Naruto's affiliation with the Asian underworld and Harry's association with it (maybe) won't really come up for a long time. A few years, at least. **_

_**Really, think of this chapter as the introduction to the introduction to the Wizarding World. Harry has his Hogwarts letter, and he is going. Diagon Alley will be interesting. Chapter 6 will be Diagon Alley and all entailed with that, and 7 will be the train ride and the Sorting. **_

_**Please, look at what I've said up top and give your input. I have read and enjoyed stories with ALL of those pairings. Earl of the North comes to mind, as does Harry Potter and the Summer of Change, as does Narcotic Effects, as does Secrets of the Male Veela. Those were stories with Bellatrix, Tonks, Narcissa, and Fleur paired up with Harry, and I loved them. I will reiterate again. My idea so far in regards to romances, EVERY able bodied woman will have a shot and interaction with the Boy-Who-Lived, except Umbridge, because again, that's just disgusting.**_

_**Please review and give opinions. Detailed ones. I have had no one flame this story, but please don't start.**_

_**An amendment: after reading some relatively glowing reviews, I want to clarify some things. Whatever relationships happen in this fic, they will not be slash. If you like slash stories, more power to you. I don't get it, and they really do nothing for me. I've seen too many Harry/Draco stories, and all I have to say about that is...what the fuck? Draco Malfoy...the boy's an asshole, and a racist to boot! One of his favorite words is 'mudblood'! I don't get it. I've read most of the HP books, and homosexuality isn't really mentioned, if it's mentioned at all, as Harry Potter is a children's series. But Rowling, saying Dumbledore was gay? Completely out of left field. I didn't read Deathly Hallows, but for something like that, that revelation, if it is one, should have been explored earlier in previous books.**_

_**If anything, Dumbledore is manipulative, and crafty. Hadrian James Potter is an unknown factor, as he will discover soon. I'm not going to spoil anything beyond that. A small point I made in this chapter that I thought more people would notice is what I said about animals picking up on the fact that Harry is a demon container, and for the most powerful and bloodthirsty of the lot. Make no mistake, Kyubbi no Kitsune, I want it violent and obsessed with destruction. It makes for wicked battle scenes, which will be happening. It did tell Harry that they were going to do 'terrible things together'. Animals can sense Kyubbi's power, even diluted somewhat, being locked inside a human. I'd like more people to pick up on the little details like that. I don't put them in for my health.**_

_**I'll get started on Chapter 6 in a day or two. Please continue to review and provide detailed feedback. **_


	6. Beyond Expectations

_The Leaky Cauldron, July 31, 1991..._

Minerva McGonagall was nervous.

Maybe that wasn't the right word. Too broad of a statement. Hogwarts letters had been sent out about a week and a half ago, and the only the school had gotten responses from all of them indicating new students would be attending. What had been surprising had been a response from Harry Potter, of all people.

She had been sitting in the Headmaster's office, going over some administrative details pertaining to incoming students when a school owl had flown in, landing on a nearby perch. Minerva had untied a letter from the owl's leg and sent it on its way. Reading it, she had to go over it more than once. She then handed it over to Albus, who grew strangely quiet after reading it.

The letter had been short. It had indicated that the student was interested in attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but was currently out of the country and would have to make arrangements to return to England. The writer had asked for her, _by name_, to meet with him to take care of shopping for Hogwarts and anything else that came up.

It had been signed _Hadrian James Potter_.

The Potters had always held a special place in Minerva's heart. They had been a young couple, with too many years ahead of them. James had been one of her favorite students, and unusually talented in Transfiguration. He had the raw power to perform at Minerva's level, and she had taught him the intricacies of Battle Transfiguration. Lily, that was self explanatory. So determined and focused on her goals. Many of the old purebloods had disapproved of James and Lily's relationship. Mudblood had been one of the kinder words used. There had been many witches with ulterior motives who had tried to get their hooks into James Potter and the Potter fortune. They saw easy prey after the deaths of James's parents. James and Lily had had a combative relationship before that happened, but the vultures circling around was what finally got Lily and James together.

That...had not gone over well with Severus. If there was one thing Severus Snape respected, it was power. As a halfblood, he had to work harder to attain it, and especially in Slytherin. The man had worked hard to hide his personal history and blood ties. Many could see that he had been taken with Lily, despite her being a Muggleborn. She was quite powerful, and could do things with Charms that were a sight to see. Flitwick had apprenticed her for the last three years of her Hogwarts education and it had paid off immensely. Her dueling skills were also among the top five percent. But anyone could see that Severus was highly possessive and obsessive about things. Take Potions for example. That had turned Lily off, and destroyed whatever had been there, if anything had been there at all.

Albus had become quiet after reading the letter. There was also a strange look in his eye. Minerva knew the man. The wheels were turning. Something was brewing behind those damned blue eyes of his. Make no mistake, Minerva highly respected Albus. He had taught her many of the subtleties behind Transfiguration. He had largely inspired her to become a Transfigurations Mistress. Albus could do many things, make the impossible possible, at times.

But over the years...one had to be very careful with Albus. It had taken her a long time to learn that he was always planning something, moving five or six steps ahead of you, leading you into a pattern for his own benefit. Thank Merlin that 'his own benefit' was for the most part aligned with the benefit of all. If that were to ever change...

Minerva knew that Albus didn't like surprises. He didn't like disruptions. Harmony was at the center of everything he did. Voldemort's defeat at the hands of an infant had been disharmonious. Those few hours after the defeat, Albus had been all over the place, his brain on fire, trying to spin things. Sirius Black's arrest for betraying the Potters had been surprising, but Minerva supposed you never really knew some people. Being the lone rebel in a family aligned with the enemy could be quite a strain. But Albus's decision to place James and Lily Potter's child with muggles, and _those_ muggles, of all people? It had been brought up that Harry was a powerful child. If there were any _expressions_ of said power, muggles would not take to it well. Albus had smiled that damnable smile of his and insisted he had remedied the situation. Albus always insisted. He never ordered.

He worked that subtle knife like a master.

It had been little over a month when Albus had been thrown into another panic, and he and Minerva and Hagrid had come rushing to Privet Drive, in the middle of Nowhere, England, to see a hole in the ground where a house used to be. Three bodies had been brought out, the fat muggle and Lily's harridan of a sister, and a small child. Minerva slightly hated herself for saying this, but couldn't have happened to nicer people. She had suffered observing these muggles in their natural habitat, and she shuddered to think of James and Lily's legacy growing up like that. Albus hadn't really cared about the muggles, but Harry was gone. He had been quite put out by that. Then a few days later, Gringotts had sealed the Potter accounts from outside access and the keys, which Albus had for some reason, were destroyed. Albus undoubtedly had some sort of agenda where the boy was concerned, and Minerva was slightly happy to see the boy was out of it, somewhere, wherever he was. The Ministry had decided to wash their hands of it, since the last Potter was alive, somewhere and that was the extent of their concern.

Harry was out of whatever web Albus had spun, and good for him. Minerva generally tried to keep herself as far away from the center as possible. Being the focus of Albus Dumbledore's attention was a dangerous position to be in.

Albus had looked at her and said maybe it would be better to send Hagrid to meet with the boy. That stopped Minerva for a second. Hagrid? _Bloody_ Hagrid, of all people?

Minerva had been offended, but hid it well. She had learned Occlumency years ago, a necessity when dealing with Albus. He had never mentioned anything about it, and she supposed Albus thought it amusing, his deputy shielding herself from him. He never pressed overly hard, because frankly, if he was truly determined, she would not have been able to keep him out.

Back to Hagrid. Minerva had known Hagrid for many years. He was loyal to a fault, and had done much for the Order of the Phoenix during the last war, but the half giant wasn't the best person to get a first impression from. Being professional was not his strong suit. Besides, it was tradition for students raised in non-Wizarding environments or those without parents to be greeted by a Hogwarts professor when shopping in Diagon Alley for the first time. Usually Minerva, or Professor Sinestra were sent. Aurora because she was a consummate professional, and to be frank, a very pretty face, and Minerva as part of her duties. Severus never volunteered, and to be honest, the man was not sociable, to put it lightly.

Hagrid had never been sent out to greet a prospective student, and Albus's suggestion of him had gotten her attention. She had put her foot down. This was very tricky with Albus. The man did not respond well to outright defiance or anything contrary to what he wanted. He always subtly bent others to his will. Minerva, having had a long working relationship with Albus, could get away with standing up to him, slightly, but she knew not to push her luck and not make a habit out of it.

Minerva had stated that Harry's response had asked for her _by name_. Sending someone else in her place would be construed as rude. No one had any idea what Harry Potter was like, the boy had been off the grid for nearly a decade. A good first impression was vital, and that was not Hagrid's _forte_. It had taken nearly ten minutes to make him see reason, and he said he 'would allow it'. Like it was some sort of gift.

There were too many times when that man truly irritated her...

The pub was lightly populated. It was close to noon, and the early lunch crowd was starting to come in from the Alley side. Minerva looked up as the door to the Muggle side opened, and a figure stepped in.

He was dressed like a Muggle, with dark pants and a black shirt under a leather jacket. He was moderately tall, maybe 5'5 or 5'6. But what was most noticeable was his hair. It was jet black, and stood straight up and slightly back. He spoke to the bartender, Tom, who pointed in Minerva's direction. The man then thanked Tom and began walking towards Minerva's table, which was in the back, in a quiet area.

He stopped in front of her table. On closer inspection, the man was wearing dark sunglasses, and was that...small earrings? A small silver ring in each ear! People these days...

But the oddest thing seemed to be those marks on each of the man's cheeks. Three thin marks on each cheek, perfectly symmetrical. They looked almost like...whiskers? Somehow, they fit into his overall appearance. They only stuck out slightly on his tanned skin. He looked at her and stuck out a hand. He was wearing some kind of fingerless gloves.

"Are you Professor Minerva McGonagall?"

She replied in the affirmative.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."

* * *

Harry had taken the overnight flight to England, landing in London shortly after seven in the morning. He had taken his bags and stowed his documentation and got into a cab outside the terminal. Asking the driver about any moderately priced, but classy hotels in the area, he had been driven to one slightly outside of the downtown center. He had tipped the driver and checked into a room in the Starlight Inn. He had enough money on him, plus what he could access from his accounts to stay for a very long time. The hotel's atmosphere was pleasant enough, the staff were unobtrusive, room service was not a problem. 

He put his bags down and took a nap, waking up six hours later, feeling rested. He had not really slept on the airline. He had been conversing with the fox about various topics of importance during the trip. Looking at the clock, it was around 11:15. Time to go. He had a meeting. He had showered and dressed. He had bought the leather jacket in Hong Kong a day before he left, along with a bunch of other clothing, and looked quite good in it, if he said so himself. He had also bought several pairs of tough, leather fingerless gloves. Looking in the mirror, he thought he looked smashing, ready to face the day.

The fox grumbled about him preening in the mirror like a woman, and Harry left, securing the door behind him. He was not worried about theft. He had painted a seal on the inside of his suite door. No one could enter but him.

_The Leaky Cauldron, Charing Cross Road, London... _Apparently this pub was the entrance to Diagon Alley, the main Wizarding shopping center in England. There were also a multitude of other lesser Alleys attached to it. Looking at a London street map, it was fairly easy to pinpoint, and twenty minutes later, Harry was in front of the pub.

Looking at it was strange. The building seemed to be slightly rippling, like some kind of mirage. It seemed out of focus. Looking around, Harry noticed none of the muggles walking to and fro paying attention to this. The fox told him to focus energy to his eyes. The sensation was weird, a loud pulsing in tune with his heartbeat behind his eyes. Behind his dark glasses, Harry's eyes were a dull red color and slitted vertically, like the fox's. Releasing the energy, it resettled in his body and Harry's eyes returned to that unsettling shade of intense green again. When Harry focused, the building came into sharp view. The fox explained to him that as a kitsune, it could see through most, if not all illusions, and as a demon carrier, Harry could too. Doing this however caused the slitted eye effect, as Harry was drawing upon the Kyubbi's power to use a superior form of mage sight, an ability that some wizards and witches had. Wearing the glasses while doing this was a good idea, to avoid suspicion. But these were muggle glasses. Perhaps looking into Wizarding glasses was a good idea.

Walking in, he asked the bartender, a man named Tom, if a Minerva McGonagall was here, as he had an appointment with her, and was directed towards a table in the far back. Near the far wall, a woman sat nursing a cup of tea, waiting for someone. As he approached, he could see her appraising him. She appeared to be middle aged, but with wizards, who knew? Scanning her for a moment with his second sight caused him to reevaluate the woman. She was quite the deceiver...

"Are you Professor Minerva McGonagall?"

She nodded.

Harry stuck out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."

* * *

He took a seat across from Minerva and they sat there for a moment, analyzing one another. Harry Potter was certainly different from most other eleven year old boys she had met. Physically, he was quite well built, but not bulky. He was large enough to wear men's size clothing. Largest eleven year old she ever met. He would probably get only taller as time went on. She was pleased to note he had a firm handshake, although she couldn't see his eyes. 

You could read a lot into a person by looking in their eyes.

"Mr. Potter, I am pleased you could meet with me." Minerva started. "Many were concerned, after your...disappearance. I am glad that you are all right. You have my deepest condolences on the deaths of your...relatives." Minerva cursed herself. Her own biased opinions of _those people_ had crept into her voice. He had probably noticed her slight hesitation.

"Thank you...but why?"

"Why what?" Minerva was confused. Why what?

"Why are you offering your condolences? My muggle relatives were nothing to you." He sounded slightly confused, but his wording, his muggle relatives were _nothing_ to her, had strange connotations.

"Mr. Potter...it-it is common courtesy...they were your family?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Professor, people die every day. I highly doubt that the deaths of those three muggles made any difference. Beyond that, I did not know them."

It was the truth. He had been in the Dursely's care, or lack of it for little more than a month when Naruto had rescued him and annihilated them. In all honesty, the Durselys were not even a memory for him and did not occupy a place in his mind. All that Naruto had said about them was that they had been unfit to raise him. Harry had no reason to doubt that. He highly doubted he would have had the opportunity to become what he had become if he had stayed with those muggles.

The professor seemed confused. Harry sounded very...cold when talking about that. It seemed he was well versed in the facts of life and the harsh realities. For some reason, Minerva found that refreshing, like speaking to an equal, in a way.

Harry noticed the Professor seemed to be processing something. No doubt she had expected...something else. She had to adjust to a grounded Hadrian James Potter. She finally smiled and stood up.

"Well, shall we enter Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter? There is much to take care of today."

Harry followed her to a wall on the opposite side of the room. The professor pulled out her wand and proceeded to tap several bricks in a combination. The bricks glowed a light blue for a second before the brick wall slid open, the bricks reforming into a passageway. There was a brightly lit area close on the other side.

Harry arched an eyebrow and looked at Minerva. "Quite a trick." He deadpanned, before entering. Professor McGonagall followed close after, and the passage sealed after them.

* * *

The weather on London had been slightly overcast and foggy, but the sun was shining brightly upon Diagon Alley, which was moderately populated today. Harry looked around. The Alley was paved with cobblestones, with magical lampposts spaced every few meters. Several stores caught Harry's attention, but there was one that made the fox take notice. It seemed very interested in a store called 'Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 384 B.C.' 

_**"The energy signature within...it is familiar to me**_..." The fox continued to think for a moment before erupting in a series of throaty chuckles that rumbled through Harry's mind.

_'Mind letting me in on the joke?'_ Harry inquired mentally.

**_"I shall tell you soon enough, gaki. Needless to say, an old... associate of mine resides in there. There are many days I alternately thank him...and curse his name."_**

Harry chose not to answer. The fox was in a humorous moment and would not be saying much of anything. Harry would find out soon enough.

He snapped back to reality. McGonagall was saying something. "...over there is Flourish and Blott's Bookstore. They have in stock every book in the Hogwarts curriculum. Over there is Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Hogwarts has an agreement with them for Hogwarts students robes. We will be stopping at both of these stores, but first, we must go to Gringotts."

"Gringotts?" Harry was vaguely familiar with the term. Naruto had mentioned it was a worldwide Wizard banking establishment run by Goblins, a species seemingly obsessed with money and wealth. It was highly probable that they, like other nonhuman species, would be able to sense on some level, what Harry was, and the fox. He hoped it wouldn't get ugly. Goblins were enemies he was unfamiliar with fighting.

Looking down the Alley, there was a white, Romanesque building, the largest one in the Alley. The word GRINGOTTS was emblazoned on a golden plaque above the entrance.

"Let's go, then." Harry said, and both he and the professor started walking again.

Harry decided to stop again when he passed Madame Malkin's and saw a sight. The professor stopped and looked with him. What could Harry really say, looking at this? He leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the shop that offered a clear line of sight view through the front window. Sensing movement, Harry looked to his left to see a woman standing, leaning was more like it, against the same wall. She was quite beautiful, in her mid-thirties, with a shining head of pale blond hair, clear skin, and ice blue eyes. Subconsciously, the fox was eyeing her. She had the Kyubbi's stamp of approval, being _'quite fetching, for a human monkey'_. The fox threw praise and insults at the same time.

She must have noticed him staring slightly, and met him with a glare. She gave a slight dismissive snort, looking at his clothes. Obviously, she was not one who approved of muggle clothes. There had been others who passed him by in the alley who had given him dirty looks. He had paid it no mind.

The woman seemed slightly irritated, when he broke eye contact and seemingly dismissed her, choosing to stare back at the sight in the store. Professor McGonagall also seemed confused as to what had just happened, and then stared at what was going on inside Madame Malkin's.

Standing, seemingly on display for all to see, were two people, a boy and a man, clearly father and son from their looks. The man was tall, wearing a dark cloak over a dark robe. His pale, almost bleached hair was long and in a pony tail. For some reason, he was holding a cane. Next to him was a boy, seemingly being fitted for robes. The boy seemed quite agitated, and acted the consummate brat, yelling silently at a clerk measuring him. Harry could not hear the _gaki's_ tirade, but he appeared quite animated. The clerk seemed slightly cowed by the boy's antics, and the man was standing off to the side, with a look of...was that pride on the fool's face?

What the hell did the idiot have to be proud of, his son making a scene like that?

Harry looked back at the woman, who seemed to have adopted some kind of neutral expression of boredom on her face. It was obvious she was paying attention to him, but not showing it.

Finally, he spoke. "For some odd reason, looking at this, I am reminded of watching animals in their natural habitat."

Harry's words hung in the air for a moment. The professor and the woman seemed to be in thought about this for a moment, before bursting in laughter, before both of them got themselves under control and their amusement expressed itself as stifled giggles.

"You appear to have a way with words, Mr. Potter." Minerva said, a smile on her face, in spite of herself. It seemed Lucius had done a terrible job raising his son, seeing how the boy was behaving. She shuddered slightly. She would have to deal with _that_...and probably the boy's monstrous sense of entitlement and arrogance for the next seven years. But then again, she would also deal with Hadrian James Potter...who seemed possessed of a dry wit that she could appreciate. Perhaps that would do something to balance out the headaches that would undoubtedly come up from Lucius's misbegotten son.

"Mr. Potter?" The woman said in an interested tone. "Harry Potter?" At Harry's nod, the woman seemed to look at him in a new light. "There were many people who were concerned after you disappeared. But it appears there was nothing to be concerned about. You appear quite...healthy."

No doubt the woman wanted to say something other than _healthy_. Harry had seen the look in her eyes before. She was at least _interested_. Hogwarts might be quite a time. No doubt even at eleven, he would be beating off the girls with a stick. Harry supposed he was much more attractive than many other male Wizarding specimens. There was an underlying predisposition towards physical laziness on the part of many wizards. This was part of the attitude prevalent that all problems and battles could be solved with magic. There were no doubt exceptions to this. Aurors and other physically demanding organizations required physical fitness, as did Wizarding sports. But for the most part, the Wizarding World was filled with fat, lazy sheep conditioned to think more with their wands than their brains. Harry remembered Naruto's analysis of the Wizarding World quite well.

"Thank you. And you are...?"

"Narcissa Malfoy." Harry shook her hand. "It has been a long time since Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. It is good to see you again." Narcissa had a slightly off tone of voice when saying this. Minerva could probably guess why. As a student, Narcissa Black, along with her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda had been very talented, nearly as much as the late Lily Potter. A promising future could have been on the horizon. The Black sisters were certainly ambitious enough. But then the Dark Lord crept into everyone's lives, burning and killing. Bellatrix had decided to become a Death Eater. What a shame. Narcissa had been contracted to marry Lucius Malfoy, who frankly, was undeserving of _any_ woman. But Narcissa had seen _some_ kind of advantage in being married to an up and coming Death Eater and sadist. And Andromeda had followed her heart and married a Muggleborn, and had been declared _persona non grata_ in high society. At the war's end, Malfoy had paid a hefty sum to stay out of prison. If it had been up to Minerva, she would have sent the arrogant bastard through the Veil. Lucius was a killer. But he had primarily killed muggles, leading raids as part of Voldemort's 'proud crusade'. To the Wizengamot, and most of the Wizarding World in general, muggles didn't really matter. They were like cattle, without powers. It only mattered in keeping them ignorant of the existence of magic, as muggles outnumbered wizards severely. Something about that apathy for human life, even that of muggles, saddened Minerva greatly.

"Narcissa." Minerva said neutrally. "How have you been?"

"I am well enough. Lucius and Draco are being fitted for Hogwarts robes." Narcissa certainly didn't sound well enough.

"How..._nice_ for you, to have a husband and son such as those two." Harry said. "I'm sure they are doing right by you, making you wait outside for them." There was a biting tone in his voice. The fox whispered something in his mind, and Harry had an idea.

"Miss Malfoy, I am shopping for school supplies today with Professor McGonagall. She has been very kind, pointing out the sights, but perhaps a second opinion is needed on the local color?"

A startled look erupted on the gorgeous woman's face. Professor McGonagall also had a questioning look.

"It would not be proper for me to intrude..."

Professor McGonagall picked up the argument. "Nonsense, Narcissa. Mr. Potter has presented a wonderful idea, certainly one better than waiting in the street for Merlin knows how long. I am sure you have some insights that Mr. Potter would appreciate. Perhaps you know a suitable restaurant for lunch?"

"I do..."

"Then its settled. Mr. Potter has some business at Gringotts, but afterwards, you and I can take Mr. Potter on a tour, make a time of it. Make sure young Harry is well adjusted to everything?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. He really had no problems adjusting to anything. It was not like magic or its applications was new to him. But whatever it took. He wouldn't mind a day with Miss Malfoy, and Professor McGonagall had her own secret, but it wasn't his place to say anything yet.

"Then I thank you for the invitation, Mr. Potter, Professor." The woman certainly brightened up. In fact, she had a determined air in her step. Showing Harry Potter around was certainly better than waiting outside for Lucy and her...son. More and more Cissy regretted marrying Lucius. The man just didn't know how to treat a woman, in so many different ways. And Draco? What more could be said? The boy was going to be just like his father, through and through. Narcissa did not look at that with pride. The boy was only eleven, but Lucius had ruined the boy.

But Potter...he had been nothing like she had expected, and Narcissa did not know what to expect. His father had been something, but the son was different. There was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on. The hair was part of it, as was the sunglasses. The earrings didn't hurt either, nor did the fact that the boy looked _very_ well put together. And he was only eleven. The future might be even better. And those marks on his cheeks...like whiskers. She had never seen anything so _cute_!

* * *

Minerva could hardly believe it. Narcissa Malfoy was a grown woman, at least twenty years older than the boy. How then in Merlin's name could she be getting moon-eyed over him? Granted, looking at the situation in an unprofessional manner, the boy was very handsome. But a level of professionalism and decorum was necessary! If she wanted to stare, at least be discreet about it. At least Potter seemed to take it with good humor. One thing was for sure, those whisker marks, wherever they had come from, they looked much better on him than that horrid lightning bolt scar that had been on his forehead. She had noticed it, or the _absence_ if it, when she had met him. His forehead was unblemished and unmarked. The only mark she could see on him were those marks on his cheeks. Damned if they didn't look like whiskers. She couldn't help herself. They made him look so _cute_!

* * *

The atmosphere inside Gringotts stopped for a few long seconds when Harry entered, flanked by Professor McGonagall and Narcissa Malfoy. The two women picked up quickly the air of tension that seemingly erupted out of nowhere. The goblin guards were even more alert, clawed hands gripping their halberds tightly. The goblin tellers continued to work, but it was obvious they were watching the newcomers, specifically Harry Potter. It was a little after noon, the lunch hour, so the bank was lightly populated with patrons. 

For his part, Harry steeled himself. The fox was whispering to him to be on his guard. There were multiple enemies, many of them armed. There was also whatever powers these small beings could command. Harry was warned to step lightly.

"You appear to be the subject of much attention, Mr. Potter." Narcissa said. This aggressive atmosphere confused her.

"That seems to be the case." Harry remarked. "I'm...not entirely sure what they seem so anxious about. Perhaps it would be better not to mention it." Step lightly...

"Is that so, Mr. Potter?' Minerva was not convinced by Harry's dismissal of this. The goblins seemed almost afraid. That was a first for her to see.

Harry walked up to a teller window, his footfalls sounding in the cavernous room. The goblin who was manning the window seemed almost ready to run, but somehow held his ground. "Hello..." Harry looked at the nameplate. "...Griphook." The goblin looked up, being addressed by name. Wizards generally deemed it beneath them to address goblins, or most other nonhumans, by name. "I'd like to access the...?"

"Potter Accounts." Professor McGonagall said.

"What she said." Harry finished.

"Name?"

"Hadrian James Potter."

The diminutive goblin looked at him for a second, before searching for _something_ on his forehead. _Whatever could it be?_ Harry mused. He presumed the infamous lightning bolt scar, the mark of the Killing Curse. It had been a distinctive feature of Harry Potter up until a few years ago, when Harry had been marked in a different way...one he was much more agreeable to. His whisker marks were so much better than that ugly, jagged scar. The females seemed to like it. The woman, Narcissa, certainly did. She had made a good show of hiding it, but Harry knew when he was being watched. His elevated senses also picked up a certain...smell she gave off. The professor also gave it off, in a smaller degree. That woman definitely had secrets, but Harry knew her most obvious one. He supposed she had her reasons. It really was a shame, a woman like Narcissa forced to wait on someone like that bleached maggot and his copy. There was no justice in the world...

"A blood confirmation ritual shall have to be done, in order to confirm your identity." The goblin, Griphook, continued.

"Of course." Harry followed the goblin down a hallway leading to an conference room, Professor McGonagall and Narcissa following him.

Holding his sliced hand over a bowl filled with a clear substance, Harry squeezed out a few droplets of blood, which colored the liquid in the bowl a crimson red. The fluid then shimmered an odd golden color, and a scrap of parchment floated to the surface, before the liquid evaporated and the bowl became empty again. Griphook scanned the parchment before using an odd bit of goblin magic to burn the parchment to ashes.

"It appears you are Hadrian James Potter, son of Lord James Eric Potter and Lady Lily Marie Potter. What can Gringotts do for you today?" The goblin asked.

"I was told that the Potter Accounts have been sealed. I would like them reopened and ready for access."

"There is a slight problem, Mr. Potter. Now that you have confirmed your identity, the bank has reopened the Potter Accounts, they can be accessed. But as you are still an underage wizard, you cannot access the full Accounts and vaults until you reach your majority."

"Which is?" _Stupid Wizard laws..._

"Seventeen." Griphook said.

"That is quite a problem..." Harry said. He was actually quite vexed by this.

"The Lord and Lady Potter did not leave a will at the time of their deaths, so currently, the status of the Potter Estate is in question. It was...requested certain parties be alerted when the Potter Accounts were accessed again."

"Requested?!" Harry said, a hard edge in his voice. "Isn't this bank, like any other bank, bound by confidentiality?"

"It is..." Griphook said. "Rest assured, Mr. Potter. This was not an arrangement Gringotts wanted nor desired. Confidentiality is one of our most prized assets. We had little choice in the matter."

"Little choice in the matter...was Gringotts approached by someone?" Already an obstacle was approaching...

"As a matter of fact, yes. In fact, he is on his way to this room right now."

Minerva had a sinking feeling about this...

Narcissa also was contemplative. Who else could it have been, but the old one himself? He had his wrinkled fingers in every pie, after all.

Harry cocked his head for a moment, looking for something. Concentrating, he sent a micro burst of energy, a flash really. It was a variation of Naruto's 'chakra radar' technique. The small pulse pushed out, then returned to him. Three signatures, one large one, close to massive, around Harry's own power level without the fox. Then there were two other signatures, substantially smaller, moving with him.

"There are people coming." Harry said.

And not five seconds later, the conference room doors opened, revealing a tall, almost ancient man clad in the oddest robes Harry had ever seen. The colors were...strange. He was flanked by two people. A balding, redheaded man who looked to be in his late forties, and a redheaded woman who looked every bit the housewife stereotype. The old man looked around the room, taking in the occupants for a moment. Harry caught the calculating glint in his eyes before it disappeared. Harry knew the score. Look underneath the underneath. That motto had been pounded into him from the earliest age. The man's admittedly off putting choice of clothing was a distraction. While everyone was busy trying not to look at terrible fashion sense, they didn't notice the man running circles around them. And whoever these redheaded people were, Harry didn't really care.

The old man's gaze settled on him. "You must be Harry Potter." At his nod in the affirmative, the old man shook his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Albus Dumbledore."

* * *

This just went to show Albus that expectations got one nowhere. He had been alerted through the Floo that someone claiming to be Hadrian James Potter was at Gringotts, and was in the process of reopening the Potter Accounts. Albus got the feeling that the goblin waited until the last minute to do this. He had twisted a great many arms all those years ago to get the goblins to agree to this. Nearly all of the leverage he had with the goblins had been used up. They would not be overly kind with him in the future. 

Getting dressed in a fresh set of robes, Albus had Flooed Arthur and Molly at the Burrow. Today was a Saturday, so the everyone was at home. It had not taken very long to tell Arthur and Molly that there was a matter of extreme importance that he needed their assistance with. He smiled slightly. Those two were so loyal, and that counted for a lot. Neither of them were very powerful magically. Their children, especially Bill, Fred and George, and little Ginny were and would be powerhouses compared to their parents. But the adult Weasleys both had their uses. Arthur had many contacts in the Ministry, and knew most of those involved with the mechanics of government. Molly, at times, her mothering instinct was extreme, but she kept people in line. That had been very useful during the years the Order had operated.

Leaving their oldest in charge of the house, the two had dressed and Flooed into Albus's office. They were both very surprised to hear that someone was attempting to access the Potter Accounts. It was common knowledge that there was only one Potter left. Albus had asked them to come with him as he assessed the situation. Yes. Assessing the situation. That had a nice, nonthreatening ring to it that assured Arthur and Molly's compliance almost immediately.

Arriving in Diagon Alley through a Floo exit close to Gringotts, the three of them made their way inside. Almost begrudgingly, a goblin directed the three of them down a side hallway. Steeling himself, Albus opened the doors. To his surprise, there were four occupants in the room. There was a goblin, standing next to the conference table, which had a blood identification bowl on it. In the goblin's hand was a slip of parchment, undoubtedly from the bowl, confirming identity. There was Minerva...and Narcissa Malfoy? That was troubling. What was Lucius Malfoy's wife doing here of all places? He would have to investigate that. But the true person of interest was the person standing in the center, regarding Albus with equal interest. The boy was tall, and looked fit, extremely so, which gave him a look of maturity. There was a trace of James Potter in the boy's general appearance, but there were too many differences. The hair for one, had an odd windswept spiky look with a few locks hanging down. The boy had small silver earrings on, and was wearing dark sunglasses. This was an issue. The passive Legilimency Albus always conducted required direct eye contact. The sunglasses prevented that.

But the one that made him take true notice were the marks, and the lack of a significant one. He had been marked as the Dark Lord's equal...where was the mark? Instead the boy had six odd symmetrical whisker-like marks on his cheeks. They certainly weren't disfiguring. But that was strange, but ultimately unimportant. The mark...where was it?

Might as well go forward.

"You must be Harry Potter."

The boy nodded.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Albus Dumbledore."

* * *

The fox growled in Harry's mind as he shook the hand of this Dumbledore character. _**"I can smell his magics, gaki. It is familiar to me. He was the one. His was the hand that chained your powers."**_

Harry's eyes narrowed at this. Meeting the man, he could believe it. The man had a slippery air about him. No doubt he dressed like the kindly insane grandfather for a tactical purpose. This geriatric would be a tough opponent.

Dumbledore turned and looked first at Minerva, then at Narcissa. "Miss Malfoy. It is a surprise to see you here, of all places. I was unaware you had any affiliation with Mr. Potter."

How would have the old man known? He was running some kind of game. Harry meant to shut him down. "Professor McGonagall and I saw Miss Malfoy out in the Alley earlier. After introducing myself, I asked her if she wouldn't mind assisting Professor McGonagall in showing me what the area has to offer. She was gracious enough to accept."

That seemed to sum up the situation nicely.

"That is very good. You are to be commended, Miss Malfoy. Thank you. I recently was alerted to the situation and thought I would lend my assistance."

"Lend your...assistance?" A low drawl had taken up Harry's voice and Minerva was looking at Albus with an odd look in her face. He was spinning something.

"Yes. Your parents and I were close associates, and they would have wanted me to lend whatever assistance I could to their only son."

Minerva and Narcissa looked at one another for a second. Narcissa had been a Slytherin, and Minerva worked with the man day in and day out. He had some kind of plan.

"Assistance," Harry said, tasting the word. "Such as what? If I may ask?" Internally, Albus was fuming. He certainly did not want this oversized child to ask. The Potter fortune was a resource that had many applications, as did the boy, if he was pliable, something which Albus was becoming less and less convinced of.

"On several matters." Albus continued. "As an underage wizard, you cannot access the entirety of the Potter Accounts. A party must be named in your stead until you reach your majority. And as an underage wizard, you must stay with a suitable Wizarding family. To ensure you are being taken care of properly."

Minerva silently smirked. This was Albus's game. Sweeten the boy's ears with honey and slam him with the law to make him comply with whatever scheme he had cooking. She had been wondering what the Weasleys were doing here. This was it. By suitable Wizarding family, Albus meant _them_. Minerva had noticed, both in teaching the woman's children in Hogwarts and interacting with her during the years the Order had been active, that Molly Weasley was a dominating personality. And that was putting it lightly. Perhaps Molly's saving grace was the fact that the woman could _cook_. It was ironic that a Transfiguration Mistress had no flair in the kitchen, but it was sadly true.

Molly had an annoying habit of mothering everything and everyone in her orbit. This had a detrimental effect on her children. Many of them were interested in or pursuing dangerous careers, such as Bill's cursebreaking and Charlie's dragon handling. They were undoubtedly acts of rebellion, partially to spite her and partially to get away from her. The twins, Fred and George, were notorious pranksters who has a solid reputation at Hogwarts. Minerva could see the genius that lay underneath the jokes. The pranks were also done partially to thumb their nose at Mother and partially because the twins did not want to pursue something truly lifethreatening.

As for Arthur, the man was cowed. No kinder way Minerva could put it. He worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office in the Ministry, which was fairly useless, as not many wizards in England were interested in misusing Muggle artifacts at all. He had the position because he was obsessed with muggle items. As far as the household went, Arthur went down the path of least resistance, for better or worse. Minerva did not have a great amount of respect for him.

"A party must be named in my stead as I'm not of age, you say?" Harry mused. "I assume you might be an interested party, willing to help with my finances?"

"I would be glad to help." Albus said, the very definition of kindness and generosity. _The shit was being laid quite thick_, as the muggles would say.

"Thank you for the offer...but I'm not sure. We don't know each other that well. I'm hesitant to burden someone I don't know with such a responsibility. I don't want to be a bother..."

She knew it. Potter was leading the old meddler in a circle. Narcissa was positive Potter was a smart boy. Giving Albus Dumbledore control would be a very bad thing. He would smile to your face while causing trouble behind your back.

"Are there any other options? I really don't want to be a burden..." Harry injected a pleading note into his voice.

It was then that the least likely person in the room spoke up. "There is another option, Mr. Potter." Griphook spoke up.

This was the chance. Dumbledore had stepped on many toes nearly a decade ago, and under duress the goblins had been forced to comply with what he had asked, to be notified if the Potter Accounts were ever accessed. The old man had no more power with them. Griphook was sure Bank President Ragnok would approve of his idea. He held no love for Dumbledore either, a man who was all smiles but searching for a weakness constantly. Solid agreements and trust were a foundation of the goblin identity and the way they conducted business. Dumbledore was a man that had to be constantly watched. None of them liked that.

"Please tell." Harry encouraged.

"You could designate a goblin representative to control the majority of your financial affairs until you come of age. Normally, a Wizarding family designates a goblin financial manager but retains majority control over their affairs. As there are no family members of House of Potter, save yourself, this arrangement is not feasible. This provides a...neutral option."

Everyone in the room, save Harry, was looking at the diminutive goblin with a mild degree of shock. This was completely unexpected. Albus looked completely sidelined for several seconds. The goblins were facilitators, middlemen. To take an active hand in a situation such as this was unprecedented. Harry doubted the goblins were doing this out of some sense of altruism. It was obvious they didn't like Dumbledore and had taken the opportunity to strike him in an unexpected manner. But still...Professor McGonagall and Narcissa had told him that for goblins, honoring their agreements was a fundamental part of their identity. There had been duels to the death over broken agreements between goblins. They probably wanted something from him, but they wouldn't steal from him.

Harry spoke again. "I trust that I would be able to establish a dialogue with whoever was chosen as my representative in this matter?" Albus saw where this was going. The boy and the goblins were going to work behind his back on this. In regards to banking matters, goblins were only interested in protecting the investments of their clients and making their clients more prosperous. The boy wanted a _dialogue_, which was a way of saying that the goblins would be a 'legal' buffer, allowing the boy access to his money without him really touching it, as he could not do so legally. Albus hid his anger quite well. The boy was cunning, and was sharp. That wouldn't do. And the goblin? That had been unexpected.

Griphook grinned. This was quite a clever human. Dumbledore seemed furious he lost control of the situation, and the two drones he had brought with him seemed confused.

"I'm sure something could be established, Mr. Potter. So this arrangement is agreeable to you?"

"Mr. Potter, I must implore you not to do this. It would not be in your best interests." Minerva and Narcissa sat back and were silent for the last few minutes. Events had been maneuvered out of Albus's control quite smoothly, but the goblin getting involved was new. Dumbledore must have really slipped up and infuriated them. It was always said that goblins would take their revenge in unexpected ways. This was one of them.

"Hmmm. I think this is an arrangement that could be beneficial to both parties, Griphook. I am definitely interested. How quickly can this be done?"

"Immediately, Mr. Potter." Griphook withdrew some parchment from a cabinet on the wall of the conference room and drafted a legal form. Knowledge of Ministry financial laws were a requirement to work in Gringotts, and this arrangement was legal. It just had never been done before. Harry took the form and read it, before signing it with a provided quill.

"If this is what you wish, Mr. Potter..." Albus sounded on edge. This was the last thing he wanted. The status of the Potter Accounts and vaults had been in limbo until the boy named a new proxy. Having the goblins run it was new, and something he didn't plan for.

In a few short seconds, the door had been shut on a asset Albus wanted quite badly. It would be a cold day in Hades before the goblins would do anything for Albus Dumbledore again. That damned goblin would probably be rewarded for sticking it to Albus Dumbledore. But there still was a second part to this; the boy himself.

"If this is what you want, Mr. Potter. But there is still another matter to address today."

"Which is?"

"Your living arrangements. As an underage wizard, and especially one of your status, a stable living environment is essential for your continued development."

Thank you for your...foresight, Mr. Dumbledore. I suppose you know of a few people willing to take me in?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Allow me to introduce Arthur and Molly Weasley. They are trusted associates of mine, and have several children your own age. They would be happy to take you in."

It was at this moment Harry took off his shades and looked at the three of them. Arthur and Molly twitched slightly. The boy's gaze was very intense. Not even Lily Potter's distinctive green eyes had been this particular color, the cold jade darkness of the Killing Curse. Albus noticed an odd predatory shift in the boy's eyes for a moment, before dismissing it. He seemed to be studying the three of them.

Continuing in his string of blunders for the day, Albus did something very foolish. He looked in the boy's eyes and attempted passive Legilimency. Albus was quite skilled at lacing his mental probes with slight compulsions. He could shift the boy to his will slightly.

Minerva and Narcissa looked at one another, and Griphook took notice. The old man never stopped. Legilimency on a minor was illegal. But that never stopped Albus Dumbledore. Arthur and Molly were too stupid to notice and wouldn't have called Dumbledore on it anyway. Their loyalty to him ran extremely deep. They were like dogs that way.

**_"He is probing your mind!" _**The fox growled. _**"How dare he!"**_

_'Calm down, fox. I have a plan. Hold his probe, but do not alert him to your presence.'_

The only sign something was wrong was that Albus snorted slightly and stood still. He could not retract his probe! The damned boy had somehow latched on to it! He could feel slightly the hooks of something holding the end of his probe. If he could not disengage soon, it would become very painful for him. The boy's mind was shielded somehow, but he had never heard of a reaction like this.

Slowly, Harry concentrated and began building up _something_. The goblin noticed it first, and struggled to hold his ground. Minerva and Narcissa then noticed it. Both of them had to engage their Occlumency to remain stable. Arthur and Molly sensed something, an overpowering feeling of death and terror washing over them. This pervasive wave washed out for moment, before compressing into a tight stream.

Harry had learned the theory and application of killing intent from the last true master. Killing intent was quite literally, the will to murder. The extension of your presence and being and the use of it as a psychological weapon. Naruto had explained to him that it was partially body language, creating an aggressive and invulnerable position. The second part was the meticulous use of your energy and emotions to produce a debilitating effect on an opponent. Proper use of killing intent on a weak opponent could cause involuntary reactions and loss of bladder control, cause nosebleeds. Properly applied, it could even kill weak animals or the elderly, overloading their bodies through fear. The Dark Lord Voldemort had a very primitive understanding of this concept, which partially made his reputation as a man so feared people were afraid to even say his name.

Killing intent was a strange form of Legilimency, instead of a fine probe peeling away secrets, it was a brutal hammer used to smash an enemy even before a fight started.

Harry solely used his own energy for this. Had he used the fox's, the old man in all likelihood would have had a fatal reaction. As such, with only Harry's base killing intent, the old man was having difficulties. Harry slowly released the probe. As he did so, Albus began having a nosebleed, which he tried to stop.

The old man tried to save face. He had a severe headache from whatever the boy had done to him. He had never felt so afraid in his life. But he still had to salvage this.

"There is still the matter of your living arrangements, my dear boy." Arthur and Molly looked deeply troubled. They had been completely paralyzed during the exchange.

"There is no need, Mr. Dumbledore. I have been able to look after myself for years with no difficulty. I see no reason for that to change. Besides, I don't want to be an imposition."

"Nonsense, young Harry. Now, I must insist..."

"Insist all you like. My time is valuable and I would rather not spend it with your pet family."

The entire conversation with Dumbledore had been very soft blows, two opponents dancing around one another, sending out feelers. Harry's dominance had been established early on, but it was time to clinch it and show the old man who was in control. The time for niceties were over.

The two of them stared down one another for a second. Harry had put his shades back on. Finally, it was Griphook who broke this impasse.

"I believe your business is concluded, Mr. Dumbledore." The conference room doors opened and four security goblins entered. "Security will see you out."

The old man and his stooges could not leave quickly enough. No one said anything for a moment before Griphook spoke. "Shall we make a withdrawal from your vaults, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall and Miss Malfoy. They seemed to be processing what just happened. They then snapped out of it.

"Yes. Let's go."

* * *

Harry and company exited Gringotts about twenty minutes later. Harry held an enchanted moneybag with about a hundred galleons. This would be enough to take care of everything and still have a generous amount left over. He could sense the two women to either side of him had things they wanted to say. 

"Mr. Potter, I must ask. What in Merlin's name were you doing in there?"

"That's very simple, Professor. I like my life just the way it is, and I won't stand for anyone changing it. Those two with the old man, those...Weasleys, was it? They had the old man's stink all about them. It is as I said. I have better things to do with my time."

Minerva opened her mouth, then closed it. Damned if the boy wasn't right. It was much harsher than she would have said it, but the truth. This was also the first time she had seen Albus back down from anything. This was partially due to the goblin's clever trick. The goblins were masters of the law, and of finding loopholes in it. No doubt they would want something from Harry down the road, and who knew what that would be? But Harry essentially had access to his fortune, with the goblins as middlemen. No doubt they would do whatever he wanted in regards to his money.

"But what was that? What you did?" Narcissa asked.

"I did something?"

"Don't play the innocent, Mr. Potter."

"It's a trick I learned. One of many. Perhaps I'll teach you someday." With that, Harry stopped in front of Ollivander's and walked in, holding the door for Professor McGonagall and Narcissa.

* * *

Mr. Ollivander froze when he saw who had entered his shop. He had sensed, or thought he had sensed something an hour ago. He hoped it wasn't true. But here it was, in his shop, after all of these years... 

Forcing a smile onto his face, he came up to the counter. "Miss Black, Miss McGonagall. It has been many years since you last entered my shop. I trust there are no difficulties?"

They both said no.

"And you must be...Mr. Potter. Yes. I have been expecting you. If you don't mind, may we speak in the back for a few moments? There is a matter of some urgency we must talk about."

Harry wasn't surprised. The fox had told him all about this. "Of course. Professor, Miss Malfoy, I won't be long."

The two of them quickly made their way into a back storage room. Ollivander shut the door with a powerful locking and silencing charm. He then was about to turn his wand on Harry, but the young man grabbed his arm in a steel grip, causing him to drop his wand, which rolled out of his reach. With his other arm, Harry held Ollivander in the air off his feet.

"A demon container..." Ollivander muttered.

Harry grinned, and his body changed slightly. His nails became clawed, his whisker marks lengthened and deepened, his teeth became razor sharp, and he took his glasses off to reveal red, slitted eyes.

"Not _a_ demon container, _the_ demon container." Harry snarled. "Quite aggressive there. I wonder why. In case you're wondering, the Kyubbi no Kitsune says hi. He still remembers what you did."

"Please...Lord Kitsune...it has been nearly six thousand years...have I not suffered enough? Have I not been punished?" Ollivander's voice sounded piteous.

Harry felt the Kyubbi roaring in his mind, when then quieted to a low growl. He ignored Ollivander's pleas and continued.

"I wonder what the world would say if they knew that Mr. Ollivander, friendly neighborhood wand maker, was in reality the former High Lord of Atlantis..._Merlin_?"

Harry let out a dark chuckle.

* * *

_**A/N: My first real cliffhanger. I know. People are going to hate me for this, but the Diagon Alley scene stretched too long and I had to break it up. The next chapter will cover the end of this, the Hogwarts Train, and the Sorting.**_

_**A few things:**_

_**The goblins: So you are not confused, this is not one of those stories where Harry is chummy with the goblins. That idea has been overdone to death. They recognize what Harry is, and are rightfully afraid of him. But, they will do business with him, as Harry maintains a position of nonaggression. As far as their business arrangement goes, I took an idea from jbern's To Fight the Coming Darkness, where Harry gives representation over to the goblins in the Wizengamot. As far as my story goes, as was said, this arrangement is a nice legal loophole that Harry can use to get access to his money without the fact that he is underage getting in the way. The goblins don't like Dumbledore, which is an added plus. But they do want something for this, which will be explored as soon as I can think up something.**_

_**Minerva: In this, I see her character as more analytical. I have read other stories where Minerva disagrees with Dumbledore sometimes, but ultimately backs down on what he wants. I don't like that. Minerva is a smart woman. For this fic, I'll say she is very careful around Dumbledore. She is a powerful witch, but Dumbledore is much more powerful than her. The power imbalance is there. But she's a smart woman, and knows how the old man operates. Much of this chapter were her opinions and her reminiscing on various things, like the Weasleys. Her analysis of the Weasleys was partially inspired by To Fight the Coming Darkness as well, and thinking about it, it is spot on. Arthur and Molly are not the stereotypical 'evil' Weasleys, but they don't think, which is worse. The analysis of their children will play a part in the future. As far as Minerva's 'secret' goes, I will explore it in the next chapter. I will give a hint. In a way, Professor McGonagall is like Tsunade. Read into that what you will.**_

_**Narcissa: Maybe her intro into this mix was weak, or strange. Or maybe, just maybe, it was spot on. The way I see the beautiful Miss Black is that she's like a very intelligent trophy wife. She married Lucius thinking one thing, and he turned out so wrong, and gave her a son she is ashamed of, a worthless boy with delusions of grandeur. I'd say that boredom makes up most of her life, and frankly, she doesn't deserve that. Her husband, making her wait outside, like she is some kind of dog, is disgraceful. She's kind of eager for any kind of excitement in her life, and will jump at it. She's vary talented, but being married to Malfoy, its going to waste.**_

_**Harry: One person who reviewed this story thought that I was making Harry too serious, or something. He needed some kind of perversion, or something, to lighten him up. To this, I say no. Comedy is not at the forefront of this story, although it will be there. In a way, Harry is a little like Sasuke. Think about it before you rip my head off. He is the last of his family, he's mysterious, handsome, strong. But he won't be aloof like that asshole Sasuke. Even this early, the females are noticing him. He's certainly better looking and more put together than any other eleven year old in the school. In regards to a quirk, what I will say is this. The females will go crazy over the whisker marks, as they're so CUTE! That is as far as I'll go in that regard. Make no mistake, in a way, Harry will be an avenger, just not a stupid one, like Sasuke was.**_

_**Ollivander: I read a story called Interview with the Slytherin Childe where Ollivander was Merlin, and I loved it. I will explain the meaning of the last few parts of the chapter in the next chapter. Needless to say, Ollivander and Kyubbi no Kitsune have some history.**_

**_One final thing: I've read too many stories where Dumbledore violated the Potter's will by placing Harry with the Dursleys. I got around that by simply saying that the Potters did not make one. There was not enough time or something. Voldemort smashing down their door was unexpected. _**

**_One other final thing: In regards to Harry's attitude with Dumbledore, Harry IS underage, but no one makes him do something he doesn't want to do. I'm trying to create this dynamic that Harry follows his own path and does his own thing. He really can't be made to do anything or ordered around by the old man. Dumbledore insists on something? So what. He insists, so what? No one really controls him. This will be expanded more in the future._**

_**As always, leave detailed reviews, the more detailed, the better! DETAILED! Read the chapter and call me on anything you deem important or liked. I like all the story alerts and favorite stories, those are cool, but please review, and in detail! I cannot stress that enough.**_


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